Maintenance Men Misadventures
by Manuflipt
Summary: Bill is an old, experienced maintenance man. Mark is new to the job and to Deep Space Nine. Experience the station through their eyes with these short stories. Begins early in season 7. The story now only loosely relates to events on the show, so consider this AU.
1. Washing Windows

**Washing Windows**

Bill and Mark finish putting on their environment suits and prepare to exit the airlock near docking bay two on Deep Space Nine.

"Comm check," Bill says.

"Check," Mark answers.

The pair exit the airlock and stand on the station's hull with their mag-boots.

"So, Bill, why do we need to come out here to 'deionize' the windows?" Mark asks.

"Because, the safety field between the panes prevents the scrubber from getting the outer surface from inside," Bill replies.

Mark has been on the station maintenance team for less than a week now, and this is the first time they've had to 'scrub' the windows.

"Why do we even need to do this? The windows look fine."

Mark has been full of questions since he started working with Bill. Sometimes he asks because he's genuinely curious. Sometimes he asks because Bill has been around a while, knows a lot about the station, and seems to enjoy any opportunity to share how much he knows. A happy Bill is more receptive to longer breaks and early quitting times.

"This is the gateway to the Gamma Quadrant, son," Bill says. "A lot of important people come through here, and the Captain wants them to be able to see stars, not ionized dust kicked out of the Denorios Belt. Besides, if that stuff got hit with the wrong kind of energy discharge from the deflector what-not, it could permanently fuse to the windows or etch 'em up something fierce."

"Oh, well… we can't have that!" Mark humors his elder counterpart. Mark isn't crazy about Bill calling him 'son,' but like asking a lot of questions, letting him do it improves Bill's mood.

"If this station had been built by the Federation, we wouldn't need to do this at all. The Cardies just don't make 'em like the Feds do. Despite shortcomings in construction, this job wasn't necessary when this beast was orbiting Bajor. Ever since they moved it near the wormhole and the belt, I've had to come out here 'bout once every three months."

Mark is relieved to hear that he won't be called upon to leave the relative safety of the station more than four times a year.

"About how long will this take us, Bill?"

"Oh… working by myself I could finish the job in I'd say… six days."

"Six days!?"

"Well, you gotta figure on the other calls that come in. One bad water reclaimator can kill the better part of an hour. Plus, suitin' and unsuitin' kills a good 15 minutes if you want to make sure all your seals are good. You don't want to open that airlock and vacuum-seal yourself in your suit, son."

"No, sir," Mark agrees, though he doesn't care much for the graphic analogy.

Bill continues, "I'd say the two of us, takin' turns on the side calls, should be able to knock this out in about four—since you're new and all. Maybe two or three when you get the hang of it. Though, there was this one time after the Feds regained control of the station from the Cardies and the Dominion that I was out here for two weeks solid. Somethin' to do with a minefield that got blown up between here and the wormhole. What a horrible mess that was!"

The two make their way along the station's hull to the first of the many windows they have to scrub.

"Alright, son. Grab your scrubber," Bill says.

Mark takes hold of the boot-sized device and pulls out some slack on the tether. With the device in front of him, Bill continues the training lesson.

"I'm sure you can figure out the business end as it's opposite the handle end. Hold it against the window and press the green button 'til it glows steady. If it goes red on you, you ain't got good contact. Got it?"

The light on Mark's scrubber blinks green for a couple of seconds then remains steady. "Got it."

"Now, the next thing you do is check polarity. You want to make things better, not worse. You'll know if you've got it wrong for sure because…"

"Bill, Bill! Are you seeing this?" Mark interrupts excitedly.

"What's got into you, son?"

The pair watch a scene unfold inside the docking ring window before them. A security officer has stopped a man in the hallway as it seems there is some concern about a case the man is carrying. The man and officer's gestures and facial expressions imply a pretty heated debate is taking place. In the meantime, an innocent-looking crate near the wall starts to melt. The goo from the melted crate creates a pillar in the hall behind the man arguing with the security officer. The pillar reshapes itself, and the pair of maintenance men are now looking upon Constable Odo.

"Holy moly!" Mark exclaims.

"Yup, _that_ never gets old," Bill chuckles.

Inside the window, Odo quickly apprehends the agitated man and they take him away.

Mark is still stunned. "I've seen him around the station, and I've heard stories, but… but that was amazing!"

"I don't know what you expected this place to be like, son, but Deep Space Nine is closer to Oz than Kansas."

Mark has no idea what Bill is talking about. Bill is from Tennessee and Mark is from Oklahoma. But the meaning is obvious: Deep Space Nine is no place like home.

* * *

After a break, which was longer than normal due to Bill's good mood and the topic of Odo's transformation to discuss, the pair begin work on the Promenade windows. They skipped the habitat ring as certain times of day just aren't appropriate to be hanging outside the windows of people's quarters.

"So, Bill, what other crazy things have you seen while doing this job?" Mark asks.

"While scrubbin' windows? Not as much as you might reckon. I can see what's going on in there any time I want. When I'm out here, I generally spend my time looking out there."

"The stars? But we can see those just fine from inside. That's why we're out here doing this, right?"

"Son, you just wait 'til you see that wormhole open up with nuthin' between it and you."

"Wow, she is _mad_," Mark suddenly changes the subject.

"Son, I'm trying to tell you about something near as grand as God himself, and you're peekin' in windows again?"

Bill turns to see Major Kira leaning into the face of a Klingon. They can't hear her but, from the look on that Klingon's face and everyone around them, they know she's yelling.

"Yessirree. That's what I'd call spittin' mad. That there is Major Kira, and she is one woman you do _not _want to cross. Klingon or no, if that man knows what's best for him, he'll turn and walk away."

Kira sends a scowling Klingon on his way then looks around at the crowd. She mouths some more words, and the onlookers quickly pretend to go about their business. As she spins around, she catches sight of Bill and Mark gawking through the window. Despite the thick glass and dead silence of space, she points a finger and continues to make angry words with her mouth.

"I don't know what she's saying, Bill, but I don't think I want to run into her anytime soon."

Bill nods, "Yep. I can't read lips, but I caught a word or two of that just fine. We best steer clear of her for a day or two. Let's get back to it."

* * *

The next day, Bill and Mark have picked a time of the artificial 'day' that's more appropriate to working on the windows of the habitat ring.

"Hey, Bill, you ever see anything interesting while working on the habitat ring?"

"Given that I'm usually lookin' out 'stead of in, and the fact that they send a notice to the people whose windows we might get to in the day to let 'em know men might be pokin' around outside… nope, I can't say I have."

Mark is somewhat disappointed. Bill is usually quick to muster up at least _some_ kind of story. Even if something seems mundane, Bill has a way of making it sound interesting or entertaining. Mark is starting to realize that, after only a few days, this often grumpy old man is growing on him.

"But you may be in for a treat! I did some peekin' at the shippin' schedules, and there's a freighter due to head to the Gamma Quadrant any time now."

Bill starts to ramble on about how glorious the wormhole is, but Mark doesn't really hear him. While working on deionizing a window, a woman has entered the room on the other side of the glass.

_She must work a strange shift to be waking up now, and she must not have gotten the notice Bill mentioned_, Mark thinks to himself.

The woman appears to have just gotten out of bed as all she has on is a nightgown. Mark has never seen a Trill before. He knows that Trills have spots on their skin, and right now… he can see a _lot_ of spots.

"Look, son, isn't that a sight to behold!" Bill says, though his words are in reference to the wormhole opening.

Mark can partly see the reflection of it on the glass, but it doesn't draw his gaze from the beautiful woman walking through the room on the other side. She hasn't noticed the men in her window and walks to the replicator in her quarters.

"It just ain't the same as what you can see when you're standing on the Promenade," Bill continues to refer to the magnificent view of the wormhole.

Mark grins, "Nope, I can't say I've ever seen _anything_ so amazing as what I'm seeing right now."

Mark can't stop staring at this gorgeous woman. She puts her hand on her hip and shifts her weight onto one leg, tapping her other toe on the floor. This pose, along with cocking her head and that short, obsidian hair to one side, indicates she's still contemplating her request from the machine. While Bill is soaking in the glorious colors and curves of the wormhole, Mark is mesmerized by the colors and curves of the woman inside.

"Every time I see this beaut' show up, it reaffirms my belief in all things mighty in the universe," Bill says as he is transfixed on the wormhole.

"Amen," Mark utters.

The angel inside the window, wearing a pure, bright white nightgown, must have finally made a decision. Mark watches her pluck a steaming mug from the replicator and turn towards the window. Her eyes are closed as she lifts the mug to her face and takes a deep breath of the aromatic steam. Her lips form a wonderful smile. Mark watches her eyes open, and her expression is initially that of pure bliss. It may have been due to the glow of the wormhole, but her eyes are the most radiant blue he has ever seen.

The woman's eyes finally focus and see Mark staring back at her. She jumps, and Mark guesses she may have let out a short scream, sending her hot drink tumbling out of her hand and onto the floor. She recovers from her start quickly as her expression turns to scorn. She places both hands on her hips moves her lips. Mark can't make out what she said, but the privacy shades on the windows slowly begin to close. Mark mouths the words "I'm sorry" over and over, not daring to actually speak them. He doesn't want Bill to know that he's been secretly watching a totally different, though equally wondrous, display while sitting on the hull of the station

As the shades close further, Mark puts his hands together pleadingly, continuing his apologetic mantra. His persistence is rewarded by the woman softening her expression and tilting her head to the side, as if contemplating his forgiveness. The shades finally close completely, and Mark can only hope that his apology was understood… and accepted.

Bill begins to speak, and his words imply the wormhole show is over as well. "Now, son, was that amazing or was that… Why in God's name are you looking at the danged window?"

"Uh, the uh… I thought I heard the scrubber beep," Mark scrambles for words.

"We're in space son, and the scrubber ain't tied to the comms. Whatever you heard… weren't from that. You alright, son?"

"Yeah, I'm… I just got distracted is all," Mark's stammering subsides. "Bill, do you know anything about a Trill on the station?"

"A Trill? Well, there _was_ one on the station, but she was killed—terrible shame. I hear another one arrived recently, but I've not seen 'em. Can't say I trust 'em really, not the ones with the worm in 'em anyway. That's just unnatural. Why are you so curious about a Trill all of a sudden?"

"Oh, I dunno. Seeing that wormhole reminded me of a gorgeous woman I saw in the Promenade the other day," Mark lies. "I think she was a Trill."

"I'm thinkin' your wormhole experience has put some crazy ideas in your head, son. I see it lit a sparkle in your eye. What I do know is that she's a senior officer… and you're the guy that scrubs the windows."

Bill takes a better inventory of the situation.

"Say… weren't these windows open when we got here?" He asks.

"I think you're getting old, Bill. They've been like this the whole time."

Bill simply grunts and dismisses the notion because he can't rule out the possibility.

Crazy idea or not, Mark decides that the next time he sees that woman, he owes her an apology and a drink.


	2. Cleaning Floors

**Cleaning Floors**

Bill and Mark have made their way to the Promenade to begin a deep cleaning of the flooring panels.

"Alright, son," Bill says, "if you thought scrubbing windows was boring, I've got some bad news for you."

"Oh, it wasn't so bad. I got to see the wormhole like never before," Mark replies.

Mark recalls how, though he may have caught a slight reflection of the wormhole, he had really been focusing on the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on while completing their window scrubbing task. He maintains to Bill that he saw the wormhole in all its glory and only got 'distracted' by an unknown noise at the last minute. He still doesn't know the Trill's name, but he'll never forget the vision of her graceful stride, her mesmerizing spots, and those radiant blue eyes. He frowns as he remembers the start he gave her when she saw him outside her window and spilled her hot drink.

Bill snaps his fingers in front of Mark's face, "You in there, son?"

"Uh, yeah… sorry. Just remembering a dream."

"Well then, I guess I'll start back at the top." Bill shakes his head and points to some contraption in front of them. "Like I just got done sayin', this here is a floor scrubber, not to be confused with the scrubber we used on the windows the other day. It may not look like much, but this'll vibrantize these floors like you wouldn't believe."

"The floors look fine, Bill, and I don't think 'vibrantize' is a word."

"Are you correcting me, son?" Bill says with a slight scowl.

"No, sir, I…"

Bill nudges Mark's shoulder and laughs. "I'm just playin' with you, son. That must've been some dream you had. It's got you all outta kilter."

"No, I'm fine, really. But seriously… are we dealing with more ionized particles, or some alien microbes or something?"

Bill takes off his hat, revealing his thinning silver hair, and scratches his head while looking at the machine. "Well, I reckon it could be doin' some kind of sterilizin', but its main purpose is just simple… cleanin'."

Bill grabs the handle of the device and presses a button on the controls. Though the device makes no sound save for a subtle hum, a soft glow emanates from the bottom of it.

"The most important thing is to watch your speed, you hear me?" Bill checks to make sure Mark is paying attention. "You gotta take it slow. The display keeps track of where you've been and what you've missed. Go too fast and it won't count, so you'll have to hit that spot again. Don't ask me why it works that way. I never questioned it, so I won't have an answer for you. Well… there ain't much to it so I'm gonna to let you at it. I'm gonna to go see if Phil's done fixin' the other one so I can help you knock this out."

Bill hands the machine over to Mark and walks off. Mark gets a feel for the weight of the machine, and a quick push draws his attention to the color-coded speed indicator. He looks up from the controls, and suddenly the floor of the Promenade looks ten times bigger than it used to.

_This is going to take a while,_ he thinks as his spirits sink.

At first, Mark has a hard time adjusting to the snail's pace he has to maintain to keep the speed indicator out of the red. More than a few times, he has to back up a few paces to retrace his steps. He's thankful that the Promenade traffic is sparse for the time being as, after getting a hang of the proper speed, he still finds himself staring at the tracking map excessively.

While passing in front of the Bajoran Temple, Mark is still staring at the device intently when someone walking across his path trips over the machine and wipes out on the floor. He looks up from the machine's display and freezes in terror.

_Oh shit, that's Major Kira!_

He remembers seeing this woman yell in the face of a burly Klingon and then turn her angry expression at him and Bill outside the station, just for gawking. Before she even turns to see him, Mark impulsively speaks.

"Oh God, please don't kill me," he mutters quickly and quietly, more to God Himself than to Kira.

"Kill you?" Kira laughs as she picks up a PADD and brushes herself off. "That was my own fault. That's what I get for trying to read and walk at the same time." Kira's expression turns inquisitive. "Hey, do I know you?"

"No ma'am, you've never seen me before in my life. I mean, I don't know you, err… ma'am."

She smiles as Mark continues to stammer, "It's OK. I just hope I didn't break your… thing there. Good day."

As Kira turns to walk away, Mark is flabbergasted that this is the same woman that appeared to be possessed by pure hatred just a few days ago.

_Is this woman bipolar?_ he wonders to himself.

Then Mark sees her: the angel of his dreams. The dark-haired Trill is walking on the upper level of the Promenade.

Mark speaks again without thinking. "Major Kira?"

Kira stops dead in her tracks and spins around, squinting deeply at Mark. "I thought you didn't know me?"

His flub frustrates him but his opportunity is waning. He points to the upper level. "Sorry, ma'am. What's her name?"

Kira's eyes follow Mark's point towards Ezri who is walking above them. She looks back at Mark with an expression that makes him feel small and afraid.

"It was _you_, wasn't it?" Kira says angrily. "She told me about someone peeping in her window not long ago. I wanted to file a report! Lucky for you, she said you looked too pitiful and told me not to." She glares at him a bit longer. "And that means you must have been one of the two men outside when I had to put an ill-tempered Klingon in his place."

Mark looks down with shame for his deceit. "Yes, ma'am. You were mighty angry that day. We were just doing our jobs, we meant nothing by it. And… and I wasn't really watching where I was going just a minute ago either. I'm sorry."

Kira observes the genuine regret this man has for, like he says, just doing his job. She can see why Ezri refused to file a report against him. She can also sense the fear in this man. She remembers the Klingon from the other day and how she had been so worked up, she'd actually hoped the Klingon had swung at her. Without the therapeutic beat down she'd hoped would follow, she had lashed out at everyone on the Promenade, even saying some choice words at two men outside a window who couldn't possibly have heard a thing. No wonder this man didn't want to admit fault for her stumble. The realization diffuses her attitude.

"Her name is Ezri," Kira says as a reward for his honesty and apology.

With the expression on his face, Kira would have thought she'd just told this man he'd won a two week trip to Risa.

"Thank you, ma'am!"

Kira shakes her head with a grin and walks off.

"Ezri… what a beautiful name," he whispers to himself.

Mark scans the upper level of the Promenade but she's gone. Nevertheless, he is walking on air and repeating the name "Ezri" in his mind with a grin on his face. He doesn't seem to notice or care about the red speed indicator constantly blinking on the machine as he pushes it around the Promenade.

* * *

Later on, Bill finds Mark taking a break at the replimat. He's holding a cup of coffee and has a silly grin on his face.

"If I'da known you'd get this much satisfaction out of scrubbin' floors, I wouldn't have rushed Phil to get this other machine fixed."

"It's been going great, Bill. It's been a great day." Mark just smiles.

"Well, let me see how you've been doin'."

Bill looks at the machine's tracking map then back at Mark. He looks back at the map again, then back at Mark.

"Son, what in God's name have you been doin' up here?"

"Huh?" Mark just looks at Bill with a grin and a distant stare.

"This here makes it look you got off to a good start, but then somewhere around… here," Bill points at the display, "someone lit your britches on fire."

Mark starts to realize that Bill is disappointed with him, but then he sees her again. "Ezri," is all he says.

"Ez-yer-what?! Son, I thought you were doing mighty fine here, but sumthin's got your mind and soul in a tangle."

Mark just stares across the Promenade, watching Kira and Ezri talking together. Suddenly, Kira points in his direction and those amazing blue eyes he worships follow. Mark's jaw drops and he emits a nervous squeak as he feels the spotlight of attention draw a bead on him.

"Son? Is it drugs, son?" Bill smacks the side of Mark's head, forcing his attention to shift. "So help me God if I find out it's drugs…"

Mark's gaze immediately turns back to see if he's lost sight of his angel. Bill follows Mark's stare and spots the Trill across the Promenade.

"Oh Dear Lord…" Bill puts his hand on Mark's shoulder as if he had just been diagnosed with a terminal disease. "This is worse than drugs, son. God help you."

Mark can only stare as Kira and Ezri disappear on a turbolift. Bill's muted reprimand—given the distance—combined with a smack to the head and Mark's blank stare must have been comical to her. Her smile as she giggles at his expense draws a long sigh.

"Isn't she amazing?" Mark asks the empty space in front of him.

Bill watches as Kira shakes her head and this Ezri gal laughs at his naïve protégé. Bill sighs as well once the pair of women have left their sight completely. "Snap out of it, son. Let's try and salvage this job. Then we need to have a serious talk about your state of mind. We might need to find you a counselor."


	3. Ore Processing

**Ore Processing**

As directed by Bill at the end of the previous day, Mark meets him on a turbolift for their day's work.

"So, are we going to scrub anything today, Bill?" Mark asks his maintenance mentor, worried he might say yes.

"Not today, son. There's been a dirty job on the bottom of the to-do list, and I thought today would be the perfect day to get 'er done."

"Why's that?"

"Because we're heading to the old ore processing plant, and I reckon there's no way that hussy what's-her-name can distract you down there. We need to get your mind off that woman."

Mark smacks Bill's shoulder. "Her name's not hussy, it's Ezri," his eyes drift dreamily for a split second as he says her name.

Bill notices and rolls his eyes. "Y'see, it's that look right there. That's gonna get you in a heap of trouble, or one of us hurt. I've kept all my fingers and toes through my years and I plan on keepin' 'em the rest of my days."

The turbolift reaches its destination in the dark, dirty ore processing plant.

"Whatever, Bill. What are we doing down here?"

"Learning to focus, that's what," Bill states ominously. "There's a lot of dangerous equipment down here and I've heard rumors of Cardy booby-traps. I figured if I give you something that requires half an attention span you might start to pry your mind away from that evil woman. She's a booby-trap in her own right."

Mark nudges Bill again, "She's not evil, and it's not like that. What have you got against her anyway?"

"I'm just lookin' out for you, son. Them Trill's got unnatural sprits and voices in their heads, makes them all flighty and traitorous. I've heard of Trills gettin' that worm-thing and leavin' their families, or startin' to speak Klingon all of a sudden."

"You've heard too many stories, Bill. Let's just drop it and get on with the job."

Bill grunts and nods, then manually turns on some lights in the ore processing center so he can survey the large room.

"I believe that's what we're lookin' for over yonder," Bill points. "The Cardies used some nasty stuff to get uridium outta the ore from Bajor. The Feds were gonna to try and refine deuterium down here, but they triggered a Cardie trap that dang near blew the whole station."

"You're making that up," Mark accuses.

"I most certainly am not! You can check me on it later. All I'm sayin' is, don't touch nuthin' you don't hafta touch. For a long time, they've been wantin' the chemicals out of this place. Sumthin' 'bout Federation regs I reckon, but no one's ever made a fuss about it not bein' done yet. Too much war goin' on it seems. "

Bill finds a comm panel and presses some buttons. "This is Bill. You there, Frank?"

"Yes, sir. I've got six liquid containment vessels ready to beam to your location," Frank's voice replies.

"Don't _sir_ me, Frank, it makes me feel old. Six should do it. Send 'em on down."

Mark rolls his eyes at the silver-haired patriarch in front of him as six barrel-sized containers materialize not far from their position.

"Who's Frank?" Mark asks.

"Oh, he's a part-time maintenance man, full-time brown-noser," Bill says. "I try to deal with him as little as I can get away with, but he's rated for the transporters, so I had to call him in on this one."

Bill reaches into a bag he's been carrying and pulls out two masks. He hands one over to Mark.

"You'll want to put this on, son, just in case. This is some harsh stuff we're dealin' with. I want to protect the cylinders that are still firin' up here," Bill points to his head, "and we both know yours misfire any time you think of that _woman_. We need to protect the little sense both of us got left."

Mark doesn't like Bill's tone and angrily snatches the mask from Bill's hand. "I don't know why you've got to be like that, Bill."

Bill already has his mask on, so his reply is muffled. Mark knows Bill well enough now that words are unimportant. Bill's gestures and muffled tone are most definitely unkind.

"I don't know what you said," Mark points and scowls, "but you better take it back!"

Bill shakes his head and more incoherent, muffled words follow.

Mark doesn't know what possesses him, but he yanks Bill's mask off of his face and pops him in the mouth. Their altercation goes downhill from there.

.

* * *

In the infirmary, Bill and Mark sit next to each other on the exam table.

"I don't know what got into me, Bill. I'm sorry," Mark says with his head hanging low and a cold-pack over his eye.

"And I'm sorry for what I said about that woman of yours," Bill replies.

"What exactly did you say anyway?"

"We best not go there, son."

Julian Bashir walks in with a PADD in his hands and smiles at the pair.

"Alright, you two," Julian says, "Other than some bumps, bruises, and minor cuts, the only thing of concern here is Bill's artificial hip. It's an older model and didn't respond well to the 'minor dispute' as you chose to call it."

"It's my fault, doctor," Mark says. "We got a little upset with each other and I… I started it."

"No, son. I'd been provokin' you all day. I deserved what I got," Bill rebuts.

Julian listens to the two men argue over responsibility for the scuffle. "I see, well, if this is a family matter that needs to be addressed, we can arrange for you to meet with the counselor."

Mark and Bill look at each other, confused, then turn to Julian. "Family matter?"

"You aren't his…?" Julian's authoritative tone vanishes. "I assumed that…"

Bill laughs heartily, revealing his split lip. "Oh my, son," he addresses Julian. "Anyone with less than fifty years under their belt and whose hair ain't the color of tritanium is 'son' to me."

Bill pats Mark on the shoulder, prompting Mark to wince in pain and grab his arm. "This boy's about your age, doc, but a little young to be my own. We're related by occupation only."

"I apologize for my assumption. The nurse should be able to take care of your minor injuries, but we'll have to schedule a replacement for that hip. We can provide a cane in the meantime."

Bill reacts poorly. "I ain't gonna use no…"

Bill slides off of the table to prove to Julian that he can stand just fine but falters. Mark grabs his shoulder while Julian catches the opposite arm.

Bill blinks with wide eyes. "Thank you, boys. I reckon I'll take you up on that cane. That means you better be more careful, son. Next time… I'll be armed."

Julian grins to Mark after Bill's light-hearted threat. "Please, take a seat until the nurse returns. I have another patient I need to attend to."

The two help Bill back onto the table and Julian leaves the room.

"I reckon I'm gettin' older than I thought," Bill says to Mark. "That doctor reminded me of somethin' though. I made you an appointment for the counselor."

Mark feels insulted, "You what?!"

"Now, son, don't be so quick to judge. That woman's spell has got you driftin' off, and now it's got you strikin' your elders."

Mark sighs in regret as Bill continues.

"You need to talk to someone about this woman, and it seems it ain't gonna be me. There's an old sayin' about needin' to do your business or get off the pot, and, son, you're stuck on the pot."

* * *

The nurse takes care of Mark's bumps and bruises and sends him on his way. He apologizes to Bill again and leaves to clean up for his appointment. Now he's holding a PADD, making his way to the counselor's office. He finds the door, but can do little more than stare at it.

Mark recalls the times he's seen his angel, Ezri. Just remembering her image and her smile causes his heart to flutter. He can't control his thoughts and emotions with her in his mind.

_Bill's right, I have to deal with this,_ Mark thinks to himself.

Mark takes a deep breath and presses the button by the door. He hears a voice say "enter" from within. With just one word he can tell the voice is heavenly, and he thinks to himself for a moment. If the mere disembodied voice of some random counselor can sound so good, maybe there is hope for him to get his mind off of Ezri.

The door slides open and Mark can't believe his eyes. Sitting in a chair on the far side of the room is none other than Ezri herself. The gaze of those radiant blue eyes pierces his very soul. Mark sees evidence of surprise in her eyes as well.

Mark panics. He drops the PADD and runs away from the open door, almost colliding with a couple in the hall.

Mark's pace barely falls below a jog before he makes it to Quark's. He grabs an empty stool at the bar.

"I need a pint!" He orders before his butt hits the seat.

Mark nervously taps his fingers on the bar until they have a glass to wrap around. Once it arrives, he chugs nearly half of the pint before stopping to breathe.

He starts to drink again as Quark is addresses someone over his shoulder.

"Well, good day, Ezri. What can I get you?"

Mark sprays a mouthful of beer all over Quark's brightly-colored jacket.

"I'm actually here for my client, Quark," Ezri says, still behind Mark. "It seems he's a little nervous about seeing a counselor."

"I never would have guessed," Quark says sarcastically as he starts to wipe himself off.

Mark feels cornered and starts chugging the beer again, hoping to escape by passing out, suffocating, or choking.

Ezri spins Mark's barstool around and tries to pry the glass from his hands. He resists, though his wide eyes are unable to look away from her radiant blues. When there's nothing left in the glass, he succumbs to her efforts and releases the glass to her grasp. His wide-eyed stare is unbroken as he wipes the suds from his upper lip with his sleeve.

"You and I need to have a talk," Ezri says sternly.

* * *

In a distant corner of Quark's, Mark and Ezri are seated at a small table. Mark's expression is that of shock as Ezri looks at him with growing concern.

"Mark…" Ezri begins.

"You know my name?" Mark's voice is hollow and ghostly, matching the expression on his face.

"You can't exactly make an appointment without giving a name."

Mark's chin lifts slowly and his mouth opens to form an "oh," but it never comes out.

"I honestly didn't know it was going to be you at that door," Ezri says. "I recognized your face, but I never knew your name was Mark until today. And I surely didn't expect your reaction when you saw me. From what I've seen and what Kira told me in the Promenade the other day, I know you have an interest in me, but this… this isn't healthy. Just look at yourself. You're completely unable to function."

Mark doesn't even blink as he stares into space.

"And I have to say, the notes that came with your appointment are quite disturbing, and I quote: 'This boy needs to be cured of the spell placed on him by that evil, spotted succubus.' I assume those aren't your words."

Mark closes his eyes in embarrassment and slowly plants his face on the table.

"It's sweet that your father is looking out for you, but I'm concerned about your relationship with him, not to mention his choice of words in the appointment request."

Mark's voice is muffled by the table, "He's not my father."

Ezri displays confusion, but Mark can't see it. "Oh, well then. That makes me feel a little better. If someone with ideas like that had actually _raised_ you…"

Mark's muffled voice echoes off of the table's surface, "Bill means well, he's just… old."

"Well, I think one thing is obvious here. I can't be your counselor."

Mark's already limp posture sinks further onto the table.

Ezri continues, "I mean, I think what needs to happen here is that we get to know each other a little. Your behavior is based on some idealized concept of what I could be, not what I am. And getting to know someone isn't a counselling session. You'd more accurately call it a… date."

Mark springs upright in his chair as his eyes pop wide open. He sees Ezri's tilted head, raised eyebrows, and crooked, uncertain smile.

"A… a date?"

"Why not? We can start right now. We'll grab a drink, if you promise to breathe, and we can just talk for a while. Can we handle that?"

With his eyes still wide open, Mark nods slowly. Ezri flags a waiter.

"So, to make this easier," Ezri says, "we can start by talking about someone else and work our way to ourselves. Tell me about Bill…"


	4. Cleaning Shop

**Cleaning Shop**

Mark floats into the maintenance shop whistling a tune. He finds Bill sitting on a stool, pouring over a large number of PADDs at his desk.

"_Someone's_ in a good mood today," Bill grumbles.

"Because it's a great day, Bill," Mark practically sings.

Bill turns and peeks over the rims of reading glasses which Mark has never seen on the old man's face before. "Oh, is it now? Then perhaps you're primed to help me straighten this place out, son. Everythin's a mess. Missin' tools, broken tools, junk everywhere… this shop is in sorry shape."

"Sure thing. Where do you want me to start?"

Bill squints with one eye, still looking over the rim of his glasses, taking a close look at Mark. "Did you go to that counselor like a told ya? I reckoned this would be one of those 'worse before it gets better' deals, and you sure as heck don't seem worse."

"I did, and I was _petrified_ at first. I couldn't even make myself walk through the door."

Bill grunts with a hint of satisfaction as the description more closely fits his image of how the appointment would go.

"But then, we actually went on a date!" Mark beams. "Sort-of."

Bill's quick inhalation, due to surprise, causes a sudden coughing fit. "You what?!" Bill manages between coughs.

"Yeah, can you believe it? We sat in Quark's and talked over drinks for a couple of hours. It was wonderful!"

"Well, that's not exactly how I imagined that would go, son, but as long as you're not pinin' for that, that woman…"

"Ezri."

"Whatever. As long as it ain't that shady Trill, I reckon it's a step in the right direction. Though, I can't say I trust counselors that much neither. Worm-Trills are messed up in the head, and counselors will mess with yours sumthin' awful if you let 'em."

"Umm, Bill…" Mark fidgets with his hands and hesitates.

"Well, spit it out, son."

"Ezri… _is_ the counselor."

"What?!" Bill almost falls off of his work stool. "That evil, manipulative… I oughta…" Bill's face turns red and he starts to grab his left arm. "You're gonna… be the… death of me… son…"

Bill loses consciousness as Mark frantically calls for medial support.

* * *

Bill wakes up in the infirmary. Everything is fuzzy at first, but he starts to hear voices.

"Mark, Julian, I think he's waking up," Bill hears an unfamiliar female voice.

His eyes start to focus and he sees blue eyes, short dark hair… and spots. "Oh Lord, I've gone to hell, and you're the devil here to torture my soul."

Ezri is taken aback by Bills comment, "You're right, Mark. He's not very happy to see me."

Julian rushes over to check Bill's vitals, and Mark quickly moves to Bill's side.

"You had me scared, Bill," Mark says. "I didn't mean to get you so flustered."

Ezri turns to the doctor, "How is he, Julian?"

"He'll be fine, but we'll need to keep an eye on him for a day or two."

"A day or two?!" Bill's blood pressure immediately spikes. "I've got work to do, a shop to clean, and an innocent boy to save from this… this demon!" Bill's face is warped as he points accusingly at Ezri.

Julian swiftly uses a hypo-spray on Bill.

"I'll make sure you… never get yer… filthy talons into…" Bill's words trail off as the sedative takes effect.

"How about next time, Ezri, you aren't the first person he sees when he wakes up," Julian suggests.

Mark and Ezri both nod.

"I think Bill's the one that _really_ needs a counselor," Mark says, "but he'd more likely harm you than talk to you."

"Maybe we can try something… unconventional," Ezri ponders.

* * *

Bill comes-to again. Like before, everything starts a little fuzzy. When his eyes focus this time, he sees the face of a Klingon not far from his own.

"Dear God, now what?" Bill says as he rolls his eyes at his visitor.

"I am Worf, son of Mog. I am told your name is Bill."

"Yeah, that's me. What happened to that corruptin' woman that was just here? I'm afraid she's out to get my young buddy."

"The _woman_ you speak of is Ezri Dax, and she is an honorable woman."

"Poppycock! What would you know? That woman's got…"

Worf growls, "Jadzia Dax was my mate."

"Oh… well… my condolences… wait…would that be her sister?" Bill's confusion is obvious.

"You do not understand joined Trills, do you?" Worf interrogates.

"Of course I do, son. They put that worm in 'em, and they start getting' strange ideas 'bout things and start talkin' about other things they have no natural business knowin'."

"I… am _not_ your son. It is called a symbiont, and the 'strange ideas' are the experiences of previous hosts. Jadzia, my mate, was killed on this station by a coward. The Dax symbiont is now within Ezri."

Bill tries to follow. "So, does that make Ezri your wife? I should tell you, my buddy has his eye on her somethin' fierce."

"When the symbiont is placed in a new host, Trill are forbidden to continue past relationships."

"Then why are you and I even talkin'?" Bill asks bluntly.

"Because Dax is still my friend, and she requested that I speak to you as she knows she cannot. Your misguided beliefs threaten your friendship with… Buddy, and it is her wish to prevent that."

"My buddy's name is Mark, and I… I'm just trying to look out for the boy."

"That is an honorable pursuit, but to do so based on false ideas is foolish."

"Are you callin' me a fool?!"

Worf leans closer to Bill, "Yes."

"Well! I never…hrmph! If I didn't have a bad hip and a weak heart, we'd have to settle this proper!"

Worf snarls, "You are an ignorant fool. You must speak with Dax so that your misconceptions can be remedied! There is no honor in combat with an old fool, but if you threaten or dishonor Dax, I _will_ be forced to kill you!"

* * *

After Bill is out of the infirmary, he, Mark, and Ezri are sitting in Ezri's office. Bill sourly stares at the floor, Mark dreamily stares at Ezri, and Ezri doesn't know what to do with either of them.

Ezri breaks the long, uncomfortable silence. "Bill, I'm glad you decided to meet with us today."

Bill's gaze remains directed at the patterns he is drawing into the carpet with his cane and scoffs. "Decided? I was threatened to be here by your Klingon, not-quite-ex feller." He looks up at her defiantly, "I'd like for that to be noted in your… whatever it is you got there." He points his cane at her PADD.

"I apologize for Worf's behavior, but I needed to find a way for us to talk."

"You better be careful, boy," Bills says to Mark, "she's manipulative _and _she's got hired muscle in case you cross her."

"That's not fair, Bill. You know you'd never have come here willingly," Mark says.

"Darn tootin'! And just what does it tell you that I'm here now? She gets what she wants, one way or another. She's evil, pure and simple."

"Bill, you watch it now. I can't let you talk about her like that."

"Oh? You gonna pop me again, eh? All for that Hell-bred bi…"

Before Bill can finish his sentence, Mark lunges from his chair towards him. Instantly afterwards, a phaser blast hits Mark's side, knocking him out cold. Bill turns to the source of the blast and finds a very disappointed Ezri holding the weapon.

"Holy Hell, woman! What'd you go and do that for?!"

"Don't worry, Bill, he's just stunned," Ezri says flatly.

"But… a phaser?"

Ezri shrugs.

"I know how much animosity you hold towards me, Bill, and I know you two have already been in at least one fight about this. I wanted to be prepared. I honestly thought I'd be using this on you if anyone, but… this gives us the opportunity to get some things straight."

"That boy worships you, you know. I'm not sure he'll take too kindly to what you just done."

"I thought you wanted him to have nothing to do with me?"

"Well, he's not really my boy, but I do treat him like family. Whatever foolishness he gets himself into, no offense," Bill says to the woman holding a phaser, "I'm gonna look out for him."

"I may not look it, Bill, but I'm over three times your age. I've had a few children of my own and right now you're acting like one."

"Well, I…" Bill starts to argue the point.

"How many Trill have you known, Bill?"

"Let's see, there's… hmm. Nope, that was a Vulcan. I reckon…"

"I'm guessing not a single one. Well, there's one right in front of you now, and counseling usually works the other way around, but you're going to shut up and listen."

* * *

About an hour later, Mark starts to come around. It takes him several seconds to remember where he is. He can't see anything yet, but he hears laughter. After a few more seconds, he musters the strength to roll over towards the voices. He sees Bill and Ezri almost in tears.

"And then, he turned the valve the wrong way and covered himself head-to-toe with markin' fluid. If you thought you saw a Benzite with hair on the station that day, it was prolly Mark there."

Ezri grabs her stomach and laughs hard as Bill finishes telling her about an event Mark would rather forget. He groans in embarrassment. Both of them turn to Mark at the sound.

"Now, son, I know she shot you, but before you say anything you're gonna regret, know that she brought that weapon on my account. She only did what she had to do."

"I'm really sorry I had to stun you, Mark," Ezri says, "but it gave Bill and me an opportunity to have it out. I think he's got a much better understanding of joined Trills now."

"Do you know that she's got nine lifetimes rolled up in that thing?" Bill points to Ezri's belly.

"I'm actually the ninth host, so let's say eight and a half," Ezri clarifies.

Mark finally comes around enough to speak. "You… you shot me?"

"Well, I surely wasn't going to sit here and watch the two of you fight," Ezri says. "You're young and strong; you'll be fine. And you _were_ the aggressor there, though it's not like you gave me much time to think about it."

"Son, this gal is all right in my book. I'd heard stories of worm-Trill… sorry miss, I mean joined Trill, goin' crazy. She explained why those stories came to be. Can you imagine waking up one mornin' and havin' the memories of eight other people runnin' 'round your head?"

Bill leans over and half-whispers to Mark, "She's been a couple of _men_ too. You just keep that in mind if you two ever…"

"Ahem!" Ezri clears her throat loudly.

Bill skips the thought and continues. "Son, if you want to pursue her, you have my blessing."

"That's sweet, Bill," Ezri says with a slightly nervous smile.

"You're not my father, Bill," Mark says, "but it means a lot to hear you say that. To be honest though, I haven't exactly displayed the best behavior lately, and her willingness to shoot me isn't exactly a good sign."

"I told you the boy'd take that poorly," Bill says.

"Mark, I am really sorry," Ezri says. "I can tell that you and Bill have a good friendship, and that was my first concern. We barely know each other, but I'd like to keep working on changing that if you're still interested."

"Of course _I'm_ still interested. It's going to take more than a phaser stun to change how I feel about you, Ezri. I just thought, you know, some signals are more obvious than others. When some women want to give you a hint that they're not interested, they simply don't return your calls. I've never had one shoot me before."

"Let me make it up to you. Let's head to Quark's and I'll buy you a drink. I owe Worf for the favor of talking to BIll, so maybe we can _all_ get to know each other a little better."

Bill suddenly looks disinterested. "I think I'll sit this one out. I should really have the doctor take another look at my ticker."

Ezri catches the change in Bill's attitude. "Bill, I don't know what was said between you and Worf, but I'm sure the two of you could share some excellent stories. I promise I won't let him intimidate you."

"I reckon neither one of us was overly kind to each other. A stiff drink might smooth things out. Lead the way!"

Bill smacks Mark on the shoulder as he follows Ezri out. "Sorry, son. I'm guessin' you'd prefer not to have an old geezer and a Klingon for chaperones. You're young and so is she. There'll be other times."

Mark just sighs and follows them out the door.


	5. A Lesson in Perspective

**A Lesson in Perspective:**

Bill hears Mark trudge into the maintenance shop. An almost sinister grin of satisfaction forms on Bill's face. Luckily, with his back to the door, Mark doesn't catch it.

"Alright. I know you want to," Mark says wearily, "Go on ahead. Get a good laugh and say it," Mark shoves the cleaning cart into its place against the wall and collapses onto a stool.

Bill chuckles, "Son, I don't need to say 'I told you so'. You've already proved it to yourself 37 times."

"Who knew there were so many public bathrooms on this station?"

Bill spins in his workstool to gloat to a tired, dirty, and humbled Mark. "I did, and I tried to tell you as much. But nooo, you thought you knew better. 'There can't be that many Bill, you just take it easy with that hip o' yours,'" Bill mocks their earlier exchange.

"I was doing you a favor Bill. That job has a lot of getting up and down. I knew it'd be hard on you, so you can at least say 'thank you'."

"Why should I? I've returned a favor for a favor."

"Unless that friend of yours finally got his hands on that shuttle racing holosuite program, I don't see how we're anywhere _close_ to even."

"Pfft, shuttle racing," Bill scoffs. "I done you one better."

"Oh yeah? And what could that possibly be?"

"I've given you the gift of perspective, son."

"You may have a cane old man, but I've got two brooms and a mop."

"Now hear me out," Bill says genuinely, "Ever since that gatherin' we had at Quarks the other night with Worf and your lady Ezri, you've had a sour attitude. I felt you needed a reason to _really_ feel that sour… to give you a healthy dose of perspective."

"Of course I've been sour, Bill. The woman of my dreams, and you tell her and Worf every embarrassing thing you know about me! I didn't even know a Klingon was _capable_ of crying, much less from laughing. Thanks to you, Ezri thinks I'm a clumsy, stupid, and worthless human being!"

"Now hold on, son. Step back and check the score here. Four days ago you didn't know her name, what she did, or what she sounded like. Now you know it's Ezri, she's a counselor, and she sounds like singin' angels—to you anyways. Let's not forget that she's a pretty quick draw with a phaser."

Mark reflexively rubs the sore spot on his side where Ezri stunned him for getting rowdy in a group counseling session with Bill a couple of days ago.

"Besides, she actually seems to like you," Bill says with a hint of surprise, "If she didn't, she'd have simply walked away after that. Yet if my agin' ears ain't failin' me, I hear you've got another date comin' up. I'd say, all things considered, you're a pretty lucky man."

Despite the weariness and dirt, Mark begins to smile.

"Thank you, Bill. Perspective huh?"

"Exactly. And you might want to hold on to that perspective, son, 'cause you're gonna have to do that job again next week due to my hip."

.

* * *

After his shift, Mark heads to his quarters to wash off the day's dirty work before grabbing dinner. While cleaning up, he thinks about what Bill told him, and how he does in fact have a date with Ezri lined up in a couple of days. His mood continues to improve as he thinks about Ezri's laughs and smiles the other night, despite being the source of the group's entertainment. He smiles and starts to whistle a tune.

After stepping out of the sonic shower, Mark hears the door chime.

_Now what the heck could Bill want?_

"Come on in, old man!" Mark waits a few seconds, then yells again. "I'll be out in just a minute!"

Bill would have normally started to spout his orneriness around the corner by now, but Mark hears nothing. He has a flashback of Bill's heart attack and how the old man couldn't speak during the episode. Mark wraps in a towel and quickly steps out of the bathroom.

"You alright, Bill?" he asks as he turns the corner.

Mark stops in his tracks as Bill is not who he finds. Ezri looks in shock at the barely covered man, and Mark immediately backtracks around the corner.

"What are _you_ doing here?!"

"I am _so_ sorry," Ezri blushes. "I've been called 'old man' so many times that it didn't occur to me that you might be referring to someone else. I guess Bill is an 'old man' as well. Sorry!"

"Right, the three of you talked about old man Curzon quite a bit the other night."

"And that's part of why I'm here, Mark. I wanted to apologize. Worf is a good friend and Bill and Curzon have a lot in common. I let that dominate the evening. I was supposed to be making it up to you for stunning you with my phaser, and I ended up ignoring you most of the night."

"Oh, I'd say I got a good bit of attention, just not the kind I would've preferred."

"Bill means well, Mark. I'm sure he wasn't trying to embarrass you."

"He may not have been trying, but he got the job done."

"I know, and that's the other part of why I'm here. To make it up to you proper, just you and me. Have you had dinner yet?"

"I was going to grab something after I got dressed."

"Well hurry up, I've got a surprise for you."

"Umm. My clothes are out there. Could you hand them around?"

Ezri looks around and sees PADDs, clothes, and dishes spread around Mark's quarters.

"You're going to need to be a little more specific…"

* * *

Ezri and Mark walk through several corridors on their way to wherever his 'surprise' is located.

"You know, if I'd known there was any chance of you showing up, I'd have cleaned my place."

Ezri smiles, "Don't worry. I've been a bachelor before. I get it."

"That's… really weird."

Ezri laughs, "Try waking up from a dream sometime and having to remind yourself what gender you are."

Mark stops walking, and Ezri turns to see the blank stare of shock on his face.

"Well… it doesn't happen very often. Come on."

Mark shakes the thought and they continue. He has been on the station for less than a month now, so he's not familiar with the complete layout of the station. He has no idea where they're headed.

"Almost there," Ezri says, as if sensing his concern about their location and destination.

They round another corner and Mark sees the distinct round portal of an airlock.

Ezri scoffs to herself, "What was I thinking? I totally should have had you close your eyes!"

Mark does a double take between the airlock and Ezri, "What, so I would willingly walk out of an airlock?!"

"No, silly… look."

Ezri points through the open doors of the airlock. On the other side, Mark can't see much of it, but recognizes the unquestionable hull pattern of a runabout.

"Whoa! Really?"

"Welcome to the Rio Grande," Ezri says as she makes a gesture for Mark to make his way on board.

Mark steps onto the craft, drooling like a Ferengi in a vault of gold-pressed latinum.

"I spoke to Bill this morning," Ezri says. "He seems to know you pretty well, so I thought he might have a good idea of how I could make up for being poor company the other night… and for you shooting you, of course. He said you've got a bit of a thing for shuttles."

"Shuttle racing specifically, and I'm a huge fan. I guess this idea must be the favor Bill was talking about."

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh, nothing. Bill gave me a little 'perspective' today. To be honest, you really didn't need to do this, Ezri. Any chance I get to spend time with you is reward enough."

"That's sweet," she smiles. "Does that mean you're not interested in eating dinner on a runabout while flying through the wormhole?"

"I love you, Ezri."

Ezri is unfazed by Mark's comment and simply smiles. "I would more accurately call it 'unhealthy infatuation,' but I'll take that to mean you're still interested. Let's get moving, mister copilot."

* * *

Once away from the station, Mark wears an expression of complete bliss and adoration.

"What is it, Mark? You act like you've never been on a shuttle before."

"You're amazing, beautiful, _and_ you're a pilot. Will you marry me?"

"I'll refrain from answering that question until I think you're serious."

"I am serious."

Ezri looks away from the controls and realizes that he is, in fact, serious. "Oookay, now you're crossing over into obsessive. We're trying to get to know each other, and I'm trying to make up for treating you unfairly. You haven't picked out invitations yet, have you?" she jokes.

Mark shakes his head and looks a little disappointed, but quickly refreshes his smile. "You're right, I'm sorry. Just got caught up in the moment."

Ezri can't help but show a little uncertainty about Mark's mental state as she turns back to the controls. "We're getting close. You'll have to brag to Bill about the view you're about to get."

Mark's eyes are drawn in five directions at once as controls light up, reacting to sensor readings in advance of the wormhole's imminent appearance. Suddenly, the blackness of space in front of them explodes into a massive collection of varying shades of blue.

"Whoa!" Mark is caught off guard by the spectacle of seeing and entering the wormhole. "This is… incredible!"

Ezri observes the amazement in Mark's expression like one would watch a child enjoying his first fireworks display. Ezri recalls that it was Benjamin Sisko and her pervious host, Jadzia, who discovered the wormhole—in this very same runabout. She remembers seeing this amazing phenomenon that first time and all of the wonder that accompanied it.

The knowledge beyond her years often draws her to older, more knowledgeable, and more experienced people, yet there is something priceless about sharing in someone else's innocence and first experiences. As unhealthy as his infatuation seems at times, the pure adoration that flows from Mark is extremely flattering.

Worf expressed concern about her spending time with this simple t'gla, that Mark seems more like a pet than a potential mate. Her previous hosts and mates have been legislators, ambassadors, artists, officers, an Olympic gymnast, and so on. Ezri finds that the idea of a 'simple' man that loves and worships her is becoming more appealing every time she sees the look in Mark's eyes anytime she gazes into them. But feeling loved _by_ someone and feeling love _for_ someone are two different things.

Mark doesn't see Ezri's brief perplexed expression as he is mesmerized by the light show within the wormhole. She sets the runabout on a very slow course through to the Gamma Quadrant.

"With the war going on," Ezri says, "we'll be making a quick turnaround on the other side. No sightseeing in the Gamma Quadrant I'm afraid."

"That's just fine with me. I've already had one too many dates turn into disaster."

"Now was it really that bad? We had a lot of fun!"

"_You_ had a lot of fun, at my expense primarily."

"I'm sorry. Am I getting close to making up for it?"

Mark smiles and looks into those amazing blue eyes, "Close? You were 'close' when I saw you in my quarters. Stepping onto the Rio Grande more than made up the difference. Now this?" Mark points to their view of the wormhole interior, "I'm trying to figure what I owe _you_ now."

"How about you start with dinner. I picked the location, let's see what you can do about the meal. I know a replicator isn't very romantic, but… wormhole," she points and nods at the window.

Mark just looks back at Ezri as if she's stumped him with a particle physics question. After a few seconds of concentration, he smiles and snaps his fingers.

* * *

Ezri and Mark finish their impromptu meal in a relatively short time. Ezri watches Mark closely as he eyes his plate with regret and sets his napkin down.

"Mark, I'm not sure what to say… I was surprised when you brought out Pipius Claw and Gladst, even more so when you actually ate some. I can see you've never had either."

"I'll umm, get something else back at the station. I think my appetite is, uh, done for now."

"You're trying too hard you know."

"What do you mean?" Mark plays coy.

"Klingon food? Really? I'm impressed you know two Klingon words, much less two Klingon foods I like."

"I uh, spoke with Worf after we left Quark's the other night. I was going to suggest that Klingon place on the Promenade the next time we had a dinner date. I'd almost forgotten how to pronounce them, but I did well enough for the replicator to understand."

"That's sweet, but the point is: you're trying to cater to me all the time. Share what _you_ like once in a while."

"OK, but that'll have to be next time. I'm trying my best to keep this down, and I don't want to push my luck."

"Next time then."

Ezri knows that if Mark simply showers her with affection constantly, she'll never learn much about this man. Entertaining his affection further without figuring out what she may feel in return is sure to lead to problems.

Mark is about to say something more, but he is interrupted by an alarm.

"That must be the warning I set up," Ezri says. "We must be getting close to the Gamma Quadrant side of the wormhole. We should get back to the front."

* * *

Back at the controls, Ezri is piloting the runabout as Mark is once again under the spell of the surrounding environment. A hole to normal space opens before them and they enter the Gamma Quadrant.

Immediately, alarms sound in the cabin.

"Multiple proximity alerts! We've got a debris field here!" Ezri yells over the alarms and the clanging of small debris striking the hull.

Ezri raises the runabout's shields and the clanging is replaced by the dull sound of objects striking them instead.

"Larger debris incoming!" She calls out. "I'll try and send all available power to the shields."

"That's not going to be enough," Mark says as he looks out the window. He starts tapping controls.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Ezri yells.

"Getting us out of here," Mark says calmly. "Hold on to something."

Ezri feels a sudden reduction in inertial damper function, and the runabout starts to maneuver wildly with Mark at the controls.

"This is not a good time to try and impress me, Mark!" Ezri yells as she grips her chair.

"I thought you wanted me to share something I like?" Mark dares a quick glance at Ezri and grins. "I like shuttle racing."

They clear the debris field and Mark returns the inertial dampers to their normal setting.

"OK, I'll admit… I am impressed. Terrified and angry, but impressed. Where did you learn to fly?"

"Simulations and holosuites; this is the first time with the real thing."

"I've told you you're crazy, right?"

"Yes, dear," Mark counters Ezri's scowl with a grin.

"Was it really necessary to attenuate the inertial dampers?"

"Sorry, but I've found I have to feel what I'm doing or else I get sloppy. I don't think we could've afforded sloppy."

Ezri checks the sensors and inspects the debris field they just emerged from. "Looks like the remains of a Klingon Vor'cha class cruiser and at least two Jem'Hadar attack ships. No life signs. Some of the debris clusters are pretty tight." She looks over at Mark. "Don't ever let me criticize your flying again."

Mark beams with pride. He feels redeemed after being the butt of so many jokes the other night at Quark's.

"I need to report back to the station," Ezri says, "This debris field will threaten anything coming through from the Alpha Quadrant."

"Looks like just another cleaning job to me," Mark says. "We've got a tractor beam."

"Yes, but we're also in the Gamma Quadrant during a war with the Dominion—in a runabout. I'm going to let the others handle this in the Defiant."

Mark groans. He's found something about himself that has earned respect instead of ridicule. To not be able to exploit this opportunity to its full extent frustrates him.

"Don't worry, sport," Ezri smiles as she prepares to contact Deep Space Nine. "You've earned plenty of points today."


	6. An Honest Day's Work

**An Honest Day's Work:**

Ezri caught Mark off guard with her spontaneous visit the day before and he had been extremely embarrassed by the sorry state of his quarters. Of course, he was also embarrassed by walking out in front of her wearing only a towel, thinking an unresponsive Bill had stumbled in seeking aid. Now, Mark looks around his quarters with pride. The dishes have all been fed into the replicator, his clothes are clean and put away, he's used a borrowed a floor scrubber from the shop, and he's even given his best effort at dusting. His home wouldn't pass an inspection by his commanding officer during his short stint in the militia on Minos Korva before the end of the Border Wars, but it no longer resembled a Pakled bazaar.

As he admires the results of his work, the door chimes.

_Maybe it's Ezri again!_

"Come in!"

The door slides open and Bill strolls in. Mark lets out a sigh of disappointment.

"Well, I'm thrilled to see you too, son," Bill says sarcastically. "You were hopin' it'd be your lady-friend, didn't ya?"

"Hoping, yeah."

"Notice anythin'?"

"Besides that you're not her?"

"Bah! That doctor had some time open up, and I had my hip appointment early. No more cane!"

"That's great, Bill!"

"Now, that don't mean you can let your guard down. They may have taken my weapon, but I can kick yer butt just fine now."

Mark laughs, "OK, old man. My turn. Have _you_ noticed anything?"

Bill looks around, "Besides bein' able to see the floor?"

"Funny," Mark quips, "It hadn't gotten _that_ bad."

"Looks good, son. Now you just need to do something about that ugly mug of yours," Bill jokes.

"You must be missing that cane already. You're cruising…" Mark jokes.

"Truce, son," Bill grins. "Actually, I wanted to stop by and give you this," Bill holds out a data rod. "That friend of mine _did_ come through on that holosuite program you been itchin' for."

"Excellent!" Mark exclaims as he gingerly takes the data rod from Bill's hand as if it were a priceless artifact. "I owe you big time, Bill."

"That you do, son. I actually had it yesterday, but I didn't want to steal your lady's thunder when we cooked up your shuttle ride surprise."

"I have to say, Bill, I'm touched that you helped with that. Thank you."

"Don't give me too much credit. All I did was tell her that you got a thing for shuttle racin'. And before I forget, I wanted to let you know we've got some work tonight."

"But… it's our day off!"

"Yeah, I know, but that Ferengi feller at the bar said he'd pay a decent bit of latinum if we help him move tables and clean the floors in his bar after hours. Seems they had a rowdy war party last night and they've had a serious mess to deal with. I volunteered us both to help out. I wanted to fill you in on the job now so you could get some shut-eye. You don't have a date lined up for tonight, do ya?"

"No, but…"

"Never know, Quark may let you try that program out in one o' them suites for free."

* * *

Bill and Mark walk into Quark's bar just before 0300. Mark lets out a big yawn and stretches his arms as he stops inside the doorway. Bill sets a floor scrubber off to the side and surveys the scene, scratching his head.

"I thought you said this would be after hours, Bill?" Mark asks.

"That I did. I ain't quite sure why there's so many people in here."

Quark pauses in front of them, carrying a tray of drinks. "You didn't think I'd pay my servers to help clean this place without letting them serve drinks while they're at it, did you? If they're here, we're open for business."

"It's going to take longer if we have to work around people," Mark comments.

"That's why you're here," Quark says. "You do your thing, and my staff will keep everyone out of your way."

Bill nudges Mark, "You better ask him now, son, while we got his attention."

"Oh yeah," Mark says, "Mr. Quark? Is there any chance that we can add some holosuite time to our deal?"

"Of course," Quark says, "You add the fee for the holosuite, and I'll add time for you to use it."

"Surely they're not all in use at this hour?"

"Which means you're fortunate enough not to need a reservation, but rates are rates."

"Oh well, maybe some other time," Mark says with disappointment and starts to turn away.

Quark spots the data rod in Mark's hand and perks up. "Now wait a minute… what have you got there? You brought your own program? I'm always looking to expand my library."

"It's a shuttle racin' simulation," Bill answers, "It's got every course and pilot from last year's season."

"Shuttle racing? Never heard of it," Quark loses interest.

"You know," Bill stops Quark with a hand on his shoulder, "people've been known to put a wager or two on races, simulated or no. If the house were to manage those wagers, the house might get a cut."

"I see you know my language, sir," Quark smiles, "what's your price?"

"Let's say… ten hours of holosuite time for the boy here."

"Ten hours?! Do you know how much latinum that is?"

"I have a rough notion, but consider it an investment."

Quark squints at Bill who simply smiles in return, then glances over at Mark.

"Well, since you two are helping me out of a bind with the tables and floors, and given that it's for your son there, I'll agree to a generous eight," Quark relents.

"But, I'm…" Mark starts to speak, but Bill nudges him. "That would be great Mr. Quark, and thanks… dad."

* * *

Bill and Mark move tables and chairs out of the way as Quark's wait staff shuffle people around. Mark uses the scrubber on the floor in each empty spot while Bill chats up nearby patrons. After they've placed the last table back in its original position, Bill grabs the floor scrubber.

"I'll finish up the open areas, son. Don't think I haven't noticed you checkin' how many tables were left as we got close. You go try out that new program and let me know if I need to pass along kind or foul words to my ol' friend."

"Thanks, Bill. I'm sure it'll be amazing!" Mark bounds up the stairs to the holosuites two steps at a time.

Quark watches Mark's excitement and shakes his head as he walks up to Bill. "While you were working, I asked someone what this 'shuttle racing' is all about. I thought you'd pulled one over on me with that program, but your son's enthusiasm suggests it's a winner. I just don't understand how someone can get so excited about flying around the same moons and planets over and over again."

"Meh, it's not my thing either, Quark, but some of these young'uns go nuts for it."

* * *

While Bill is still finishing up with the floor scrubber, Ezri and Worf walk into Quark's and grab a table. Bill shuts off the cleaning machine and walks over to greet them.

"Well, if it ain't my new buddy Worf!" Bill says with a smile. "And how do you do, lady Ezri?"

Both look up with weary eyes and unamused expressions.

"Are you really that happy to see this old goat?" Bill jokes.

"We just lost a freighter and two crewmen to a Jem'Hadar raid, Bill," Ezri replies.

"I am tired of defending convoys from these cowardly attacks!" Worf smacks the table. "We should be taking the fight to the Dominion!"

Ezri blinks in muted shock at Worf's outburst, "You know the fleet numbers, Worf. We can't gather enough ships for any kind of offensive right now."

"But there is no glory in freighter escort!"

"That's bull and you know it. We saved five other freighters and destroyed four attack ships in the process. We should be celebrating victory. It's just… wearing us down."

Worf growls, "Yes, the Dominion has the resources to triumph in a war of attrition. It makes today's victory… hollow."

Bill claps his hands together and starts to back away from the table, "Well then, I'd hate to break up your little pity party here. I'll leave you two to yer troubles."

"Hey, Bill, are you working by yourself tonight? Where's Mark?" Ezri asks.

"Oh, he's up in a holosuite trying out that new program I told you about yesterday," Bill answers.

Worf snarls, "I do not see why you waste your time with that man, especially after… Ow!"

Ezri's swift kick to Worf's shin stops the Klingon short. She scowls at him heavily.

"Especially after what?" Bill asks.

"Nothing," Ezri says, still glaring at Worf, "Worf seems to think he knows what's best for me, and he's twisting my words like a Romulan."

Worf returns Ezri's glare, "If you were not…"

"Don't make me kick the other one," Ezri interrupts. "Now, I'm going to see Mark. You behave yourself."

Worf grumbles as Ezri stands and manages a weak smile at Bill. "Thanks, Bill. Have a good evening."

* * *

Lights flash across the wide grin on Mark's face as he furiously taps the controls of his simulated shuttle.

"And the rookie advances into third place! He's really moving up the ranks today, Bob!" An announcer speaks over the comms.

"It's incredible, Dave," another announcer replies, "No one's heard of this flier before, and he's really putting on a show for the crowd!"

"They're coming up on the binary moon, Bob. This turn's left more than one racer drifting in space today."

Suddenly, Ezri's face appears outside the window of Mark's shuttle.

"How's it going, Mark!?" Ezri yells over the straining shuttle engines.

"Gaaaagh!" Mark yells in shock and loses control, crashing into one of the binary moons.

"Whoa, my!" An announcer exclaims, "Someone scan for survivors!"

The simulation ends and Mark is lying on his back on the floor of the holosuite.

Ezri steps over and offers him a hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that."

"It's OK," Mark says as Ezri helps him to his feet, "it's just a simulation. By the way, am I in any trouble for taking the reins in the runabout yesterday?"

"No, they reviewed the logs and determined you did more good than harm. Sisko wasn't extremely happy about me taking you on a dinner date to the Gamma Quadrant, but he'll get over it… eventually."

Ezri's expression suggests that there's more bothering her than a stern word from the captain.

"Are you doing OK?" Mark asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Are you offering to counsel me, sir?" Ezri smiles briefly but the facade fades quickly. "It's been a rough day, and I really don't want to talk about it."

"Well then, maybe some friendly competition can take your mind off of it. I hear you're a pretty good pilot."

"Hmm, I don't know… What would it do to your ego if I beat you?"

"I'm used to chasing you, Ezri. It might be more interesting to see what happens if you have to chase _me_ for once."

Ezri forces a chuckle to hide her concern. Mark is right. So far he has been chasing after her affection and she has simply been reacting to his. His joke makes it clear that he is as aware of this as she is.

"Sure, but the loser buys drinks afterwards," she says, managing a smile.

"Deal," Mark says, "I'll have a pint of anything not on special. I hear Quark waters those down."

* * *

After an intense shuttle race, the simulation gives way to an empty holosuite, and a jubilant Mark.

"Make sure that pint is cold!" Mark smiles and points at Ezri.

"Hey, no one likes a gloater," Ezri says with feigned distress.

"Losers first," Mark smiles and gestures to the holosuite door.

Ezri rolls her eyes and leads the way. As her back is now facing him, Mark's goading smile gives way to a concerned frown. Similarly, with her face no longer in Mark's view, Ezri's brow wrinkles. Mark usually showers her with affection and favor, so his gloating and quick motion to leave seems out of character.

As they descend the stairs to the bar, both put smiles on again as they see Worf and Bill sharing a drink at their table.

"And just how many of them Jem'hadar do you reckon you fought in that prison?" Bill asks.

"I do not recall; I lost consciousness several times. General Martok stopped counting after twenty."

"And you almost got yourself killed in that camp," Ezri says, approaching the table, "Jadzia wasn't very happy to hear about what you put yourself through."

"It allowed the others to orchestrate our escape, and Jadzia… eventually forgave me."

Worf and Ezri share an awkward stare before Kira's voice comes over the comm.

"Kira to Dax, I need you in Ops to hash out our duty roster for the next escort mission."

"I'll be right there," Ezri sighs, "You boys behave." Ezri shoots Worf a stern glance after she speaks. As she heads towards the door, she yells over to Quark. "Quark! Put a cold pint of the good stuff on my tab for the fancy flier over there." Almost as an afterthought, she calls out to Mark before she steps out of the bar. "I'll catch up with you tomorrow, Mark."

* * *

After Ezri leaves, Mark takes a seat at the table with Bill and Worf. His expression is markedly disturbed.

"What's eatin' at you, son?"

"I love that woman, Bill, but I'm getting worried."

"Worried? That she might like you back?"

Worf chimes in, "He's afraid because he's realizing she doesn't."

"I may be old, but I don't think I'm goin' senile. What exactly am I missin' here?"

"She just let me win a shuttle race for one," Mark says.

"She likes you; she's just bein' nice," Bill theorizes.

"She did it out of guilt," Worf throws in his own assessment.

"I think he's closer than you are, Bill."

"There is no question," Worf states plainly.

"How are you so sure?" Bill asks.

"Ezri has told me of her doubts."

"What has she said?" Mark asks.

"That she feels nothing for you. You are wasting your time."

"Now hold on a dang minute," Bill interjects, "Ezri seems plenty pleased with this boy's company."

"She enjoys the attention, yes, but she feels nothing in return."

"That's what I was afraid of," Mark says.

"You're gonna give up that easy?" Bill is flabbergasted.

"What's the point in trying?" Mark sighs.

"There is none," Worf answers, "You are not worthy of Dax."

"This isn't about being 'worthy', Worf. This is about how she feels about me."

"If you were worthy of her, she would be _drawn_ to you," Worf looks off into the distance, remembering his courtship with Jadzia.

"I may believe your assessment of Ezri's feelings, Worf, but I'm starting to get tired of your insults."

"I am merely stating the fact that Dax will never be more than a casual acquaintance to you. If you believe anything else, you are a fool."

"I believed I had a chance of more with her, so I guess I'm a fool."

"Now, son? I think you're sellin' yourself short," Bill says. "Every good thing starts with one person chasin' another. Sometimes it just takes longer for the other person to decide if they want to get caught."

Worf scoffs at Bill, "I cannot believe that Ezir would allow herself to get 'caught' by this t'gla. If she does, then she too is a fool."

"You can say anything about me you want, Worf," Mark says angrily, "I've got thick skin, but you better watch what you say about Ezri. She can think for herself, and she can make her own decisions."

"She is acting out of pity. And deciding to take you through the wormhole? I don't know what she was thinking. She's been acting foolish. I have tried to tell her as much, but…"

Mark grabs his pint and splashes its contents into Worf's face. "I swear, if you call her a fool one more time…"

* * *

Ezri walks into the brig to find Mark in a cell. He's got a black eye and his left arm is in a sling. Mark sees her enter the room.

"Aww hell, what are you doing here?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Ezri narrows her eyes.

"Your Klingon friend and I had a bit of a disagreement."

"I heard."

"Worf is confined to his quarters," Mark grumbles, "while I got the _royal_ treatment. Seems they don't take too kindly to fighting in Quark's… or the Promenade. And don't worry, as soon as I get out of here, I'll be leaving the station. You won't have to worry about me again, and maybe one day I can get you out of my head."

"What are you talking about? I don't want you to leave the station."

"Well, you sure don't want me to stay."

"What gave you that idea?"

"Worf said as much, but I've had my suspicions. All the time you've spent with me has been to make up for something. Our first date was to make up for not being able to be my counselor when I got you stuck in my head in the first place. You bought me drinks to make up for stunning me with your phaser. You took me through the wormhole to make up for _ignoring_ me when you were trying to make up for stunning me. And tonight, you let me win a shuttle race to make up for wanting to drop me altogether."

Ezri crosses her arms. "What do you mean, 'I let you win'?"

"You're an amazing pilot, but I've been watching shuttle racing since I was a boy. Trust me, I know. Our time together has been one big fake consolation prize. You've never really liked me; you've only ever felt sorry for me. You just like the attention I give you."

"It's not fair for you to tell me how I feel, and it's not fair for you to make me feel responsible for you leaving the station."

"I'm sure you'll get over that a lot quicker than I get over you. I do love you, Ezri, and that'll take a long time to forget."

Mark looks around his cell with frustration, "Normally, this is when I would storm off, but seeing as I'm in here… please, turn around and storm off."

"Fine!" Ezri huffs and storms off as requested.

Mark slumps in a corner of the cell. Not long after Ezri is gone, Odo walks around the corner.

"I'm sorry, sir," Mark says, "Now that she's gone, I'll keep it down."

"You won't, you know."

"I'm sorry?"

"If you really love her, you'll never forget. Allow me to share some advice…"

* * *

Ezri walks into the infirmary where Doctor Bashir is tending to Worf.

"I thought you were supposed to be in your quarters, Worf? When I couldn't find you, Bill told me you were in here."

"My quarters is where I must be when the doctor is finished."

"Hold still, Worf," Julian says.

"Ow!" Worf exclaims as Ezri kicks the shin she didn't get in the bar earlier, "What was that for?"

"Worf, I said hold still!" Julian tries to maintain his aim with a dermal regenerator.

"What did you tell him, Worf? And I warned you I'd kick the other one if you didn't behave. Mark is talking about leaving the station!"

"Good." Worf replies.

"Ah, ah, ah… No more kicking my patient, please," Julian moves between Ezri and Worf.

"That's all you have to say for yourself? 'Good'? And how did _you_ get so banged up?"

"I underestimated him."

Ezri thinks about how Mark had demonstrated astute psychological insight on at least two occasions.

"I think I did too," Ezri says as she sits in a chair and slouches. "He almost knows how I feel better than I do."

"Then it is settled," Worf says smugly. "You can move past this nonsense."

"If you don't mind my opinion…" Bashir begins.

"I do," Ezri and Worf say, almost in unison.

"This is my infirmary, so you're going to hear it anyway. It sounds like both of you have based your opinions of this Mark fellow on very little. And on what, his occupation? Is it because he's_ just_ a maintenance man? At one time you were _just_ a security officer and you were _just_ a counselor. Of course, I've always been a brilliant doctor, but two of the people in this room sound abysmally shallow right now. How well do either of you really _know_ the man?"

"Well, _I_ saw his service record before our counseling session and knew that he'd seen combat in the Border Wars," Ezri says. "I would have considered that before picking a fight."

"I was… unaware," Worf says humbly.

"But to be honest, I really don't know him that well. I haven't been completely straight with him about how I feel… I owe him an apology," Ezri says.

"Instead of an apology, how about just being honest with me," Mark says from the doorway.

"What are you doing here?"

"I had a chat with Odo. He said he'd let me out if I promised to come talk to you. Something about being able to relate, keeping my expectations realistic, and not being so quick to throw in the towel."

"Does that mean you're staying?"

"If you can tolerate my presence."

"Mark, I'm sorry. I should've told you about my doubts and concerns… I shouldn't have hid them from you."

"So if I try and tone down my enthusiasm a bit, can we keep working on getting to know each other?"

"Yes, I'd like that."

"I'm surprised we haven't heard any objections from Worf," Mark comments.

"Well, I… just happened to have this sedative handy and… the last thing we need is another spat." Julian says sheepishly.

Ezri and Mark look at Worf and see that he's unconscious.

"Julian, was that really necessary?" Ezri blinks in astonishment.

"I don't need to explain myself to a woman who stuns her counseling patients."

"Touché."

"Well, if you're up for it," Mark says, "let's go get a drink and I can tell you how I knew you let me win that shuttle race."

"Sounds much better than being here when Worf wakes up. Good luck Julian."

Julian waves nervously as Mark and Ezri walk out of the infirmary wearing genuine smiles.


	7. The Morning After

**The Morning After**

Ezri wakes up with a headache from late night drinks with Mark at Quark's the night before. Though the glow through her eyelids is faint, she keeps her eyes closed in the hopes that she can drift off to sleep again to escape the dull throbbing. As she waits for sleep to retake her, last night's discussion runs through her mind. She had finally shared her true feelings for Mark, which included doubts and concerns about their 'relationship', and how she even had reservations about calling it that. Mark promised to dial back his infatuative behavior and she promised to continue being honest about her feelings as they continue to get to know each other. After those points had been agreed upon, they had been able to partake in friendly, casual conversation. She had been impressed with Mark's ability to identify all the subtle things she'd done the day before to allow him to win a simulated shuttle race. She thought she had been careful and that her efforts would've gone unnoticed. The conversation and events of the night beyond that were a bit fuzzy…

Ezri finally gives up on the hope of more sleep and opens her eyes to confront the simulated light of morning. When she does, she finds Mark's brown eyes staring back at her.

"Well, good morning, beautiful," Mark says with a grin.

"Oh, no," Ezri groans, putting her hands over her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"You don't remember? That hurts," Mark tries to pout, but his smile foils the attempt. "And this is _my_ place."

"Ugh! This is _totally_ the opposite of what we said we were going to do."

"I know, and don't worry, I still haven't picked out invitations."

"I drank way too much last night," Ezri continues to groan.

"Are you implying I took advantage of you?" Mark teases.

"No, I'm just trying to make sure you know that ending up here was not my intention."

"So you regret it?" Mark maintains his grin as Ezri wrestles with her thoughts.

"Yes... and no. Can you imagine resisting eight personalities that haven't done that in a while?"

"I thought you were the ninth host?"

"I'm not counting the psychopath, he just wants me to kill you."

"Oh… um," Mark's teasing smile wavers at the unexpected and grim disclosure. "Well, I'm glad you're in charge then, and I'm glad you count yourself among the eight that you failed to 'resist'."

"This is so wrong," Ezri frowns and rubs her forehead.

"Don't worry, I know this doesn't mean what you're worried I think it means."

"You keep trying to play counselor on me... I haven't decided if I think that's cute or annoying. And I'm glad that you know what this doesn't mean, or at least what you think I would have thought you think it means," Ezri's brow wrinkles as she repeats her words in her head. "Did that make any sense?"

"I follow you," Mark smiles. "Last night was an emotionless, meaningless, and primal outburst from which I should make no inference of attachment of any kind."

Ezri eyes Mark suspiciously. "Have you taken a crash-course in psychology just to toy with me?"

Mark laughs. "No, but after our talk last night, I have a good idea of where I stand despite what happened after."

"That's good… I think," Ezri strains, "What else did we say?"

"That we'd have no fewer than three children, and that the first one would be named after Bill—even if it's a girl. 'Willamena' has nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Ezri smacks Marks arm, "That's not funny. And you know, we probably shouldn't tell anyone this happened. There are enough rumors surrounding us as it is; we don't want to send mixed signals. We're taking it slow. Nice and slow."

"Does that mean I shouldn't kiss you again?" Mark says as he leans over to kiss her.

"Absolute…"

The rest of the word is muffled as she accepts his advance and they embrace. Regret or no, Ezri willingly re-enacts last night's passion.

* * *

Kira walks along the hallway towards Mark's quarters. She had just confirmed the time and that Ezri was not in her own quarters. They were supposed to be going over the personnel records of some new transfers to the station, but she's seen no sign of her friend and Ezri isn't answering her combadge. Kira knows Ezri has been spending more time with Mark and hopes he'll know where she can find her. As she nears Mark's quarters, Bill nearly collides with her from a side corridor.

"Oh, excuse me, miss!" Bill says.

"Excuse me as well," Kira says. "Say, you're Mark's father, aren't you? I was just heading to your quarters to talk to him."

"No, ma'am; No relation. I'm actually tryin' to track the boy down myself. We were s'posed to meet in the shop over an hour ago. I know he was out late last night, but it's not like him to keep me waitin' this long unless somethin's wrong."

As they continue speaking, Ezri ducks out of Mark's quarters and quickly walks down the hall away from the pair, hoping to escape unnoticed.

"Ezri Dax!" Kira yells after spotting her.

Ezri's quick gait halts abruptly and her shoulders scrunch up in response to Kira's raised voice.

"I've been looking all over for you. Where have you been?" Kira asks.

"Oh… Mark left his jacket in Quark's last night, I was just returning it."

"I've never seen that boy wear a jacket," Bill says.

A door slides open and a shirtless Mark starts calling after Ezri before he sees everyone else in the hallway.

"Hey, beautiful, you left your combadge… damn."

Kira looks at Mark with a dropped jaw as the true nature of Ezri's visit is made apparent. She slowly turns to Ezri for an explanation.

"We, uh…uh…" Ezri stammers.

"You two bunked up last night, didn't ya?" Bill laughs.

Mark puts one hand against the door frame and lowers his face into the other. Ezri answers Kira's shocked stare with a sheepish blush and raised brows.

.

* * *

Kira and Ezri sit with their mugs of raktajino and pour over PADDs in Kira's quarters. Kira hasn't said a word about Ezri's alleged activities the night before, but the curious glances become more frequent and inquisitive.

Ezri tosses a PADD on the coffee table in front of them. "Would you stop that already?"

"Hey, it's none of my business, but..."

"Spending the night with Mark was... not my intention."

"So it was a mistake? Wait… did he get you drunk?" A spark of anger flares in Kira's eyes.

Ezri shakes her head and raises her hand. "Guilty party. I got myself drunk. And, you know, there are feelings, and then there are feelings," Ezri lowers her chin and adds gruffness to the last word.

"Those would be hormones," Kira rolls her eyes.

"Whatever," Ezri says. "I promise, Mark didn't take advantage of me, but now that I think about it, I feel like I used him… Ugh!"

"I thought you were just wanting to get to know a little more about the guy, not… do what you did. You're going to completely mess with his head if you keep this up. That's bad form for a counselor, right?"

"Hey now, don't judge me," Ezri points accusingly. "Mark is surprisingly… understanding of the situation."

"Of course he is! I've seen how he looks at you. He adores you and you just… well, it doesn't take much imagination to know what you did."

"We did… and it was soo good, Kira. Very passionate. It wasn't primal, like with Worf, and definitely no biting. It was very, very..."

"Whoa! OK. Stop right there… wait, biting?"

"Noo, Mark doesn't, it's a Klingon thing. Though I bet if I ever missed it and asked…"

"Forget I said anything!" Kira puts up her hands to halt the flow of intimate detail.

Kira just shakes her head at her friend.

"What?" Ezri asks of her friend's apparent disapproval.

"We've got a lovestruck Human and a horny Trill that are going to try and 'take it slow.' I think you're doomed."

"Doomed?"

"Let's just say… I won't be surprised to get an invitation," Kira jokes.

* * *

After the awkward meeting in the hall outside Mark's apartment, he and Bill walk into the maintenance shop to get a late start to their shift.

"Son, I know I was a nay-sayer at first, but I gotta hand it to you. Spendin' the night tangled up with a senior officer. I never thought it'd happen for you."

"I'd call you on the insult, Bill," Mark replies, "but I honestly didn't think it would either."

"I'm sorry, son, but I'm dyin' to know… did she do any 'man' things when you two… you know?"

"What?! What are you talking about?"

"With that symbionic thingamajig. She's been a man more'n once."

Mark's eyes drift and lose focus briefly as he starts to think, but they quickly snap back to Bill's expectant stare. "Oh, that's nonsense, Bill!"

"She did, didn't she? What was it… did she insist on bein' on top?"

"Bill! Cut it out! I am _not_ going to talk about it with you… you're like… my dad."

"I dunno how many people I've had to correct on that silliness, now you?"

"It's just weird, is all."

"Don't tell me what's weird. You just slept with a woman with nine personalities. Now spill it, son."

* * *

Despite a full day of strange questions from Bill, Mark divulges scant few details about his night with Ezri. After his shift and cleaning himself up, Mark heads to the Promenade to browse options for dinner. As he nears the replimat, he spots Ezri eating alone.

"May I join you, ma'am?"

"Oh. Mark. I didn't even see you. Umm."

"Last night's not making you want to avoid me is it?"

"Oh, no… of course not. I just… I've been thinking."

"I've had a lot of bad conversations start with those three words."

Ezri bites her lip and scrunches her brow. "I feel so bad about last night."

"Bad? Last night was wonderful!"

"Shhh, we don't need to give Bill and Kira any help spreading the word."

Mark whispers, "Last night was wonderful, Ezri."

"I know… it was. But it never should've happened. I feel I took advantage of you."

"You? Took advantage of me? I thought…"

"Shhh, there's Worf, right over there," Ezri cuts Mark off.

"Does he know?"

"I didn't tell him, did you?" Ezri asks.

"Are you kidding? I've seen the inside of the infirmary enough lately."

"What if one of the others talked? Uh oh, he's coming this way."

"Good evening, Ezri," Worf says plainly, then with a hint of displeasure, "Mark."

"Worf," Mark does his best to hide his nervousness.

"I owe you both an apology."

"Apology?" Mark is truly bewildered, "For what?"

"For presuming to speak for you," Worf nods to Ezri, "and for showing you great disrespect. I was unaware that you had been a warrior."

"I, uh…" Mark blinks in disbelief, "accept your apology. Thank you."

Worf nods, "Good day to you both."

As Worf turns and walks off, Ezri is visibly perplexed.

"What the hell was that all about?" Mark asks.

"I have absolutely no idea."

Worf walks around the corner, completely out of sight of the replimat. He approaches Bill, who is struggling to contain himself.

"That was perfect, Worf. I bet Mark was shakin' in his boots."

"I could smell his fear, it was… most satisfying."

"Now remember, as long as they think you don't know they bunked up, you won't have to hear them go on about it. And if they ever find out you _do_ know, don't tell them you heard it from me."

"I will not lie."

"Don't lie, just don't tell 'em."

Worf rolls his eyes as they walk off together around the Promenade.

Back at the replimat, Mark and Ezri are still confused by Worf's seemingly random apology.

"I _so_ had a feeling he knew!" Ezri sighs with relief.

"I know, me too," Mark wipes his brow.

"I hope it's a long time before he finds out. He knows I'm not Jadzia, but still."

"Well, the more we do what we did last night, the harder it will be to keep it from him."

"You're not suggesting we make that a habit? We're trying to go slow and get to know each other, we can't just base a relationship on sex."

Mark shrugs, "Why can't we get to know each other... _and_ have sex?"

"Can we do that?" Ezri tilts her head and raises an eyebrow.

"I'm willing to try"


	8. Turning up the Heat

**Turning up the Heat**

Mark rolls over in bed, his hair and skin damp with sweat. He wears a grin and his eyelids twitch, undoubtedly enjoying a pleasant dream. After the comm system chimes, his eyes open and his grin is quickly replaced with a look of displeasure.

"Bill to Mark. You there, son?"

Mark groans as he kicks off the sticky sheets, "Yeah, I'm here. What's up?"

"You mean you haven't noticed? Most of the habitat ring is a sauna. Time to get to work, son."

Mark knew he was uncomfortable, but Bill's words and the fading veil of sleep leave no question that it is unbearably hot in his quarters.

"What happened?" Mark asks.

"Stuff broke is what," Bill shoots back, "They're still figurin' it out, but I know we'll be involved some way or other soon enough."

"Bill, we're in space… why is it getting hot because something broke?"

"This station has a huge fusion reactor, son. You know what that is, right?"

"I do, but…" Mark's affirmative response does little to deter Bill's inevitable explanation.

"It's like sittin' on a little star, y'see? And stars are very hot, as I'm sure you know. The station uses a good bit of the hull like a heat sink to the cold of space, and the same system is used to heat the place of course, but if the coolant flow through the heat exchangers on the hull stops… you get this."

"When you put it that way, should I be worried about more than just a little extra heat?"

"Naw, only part of the system's failed… so far."

"I guess we should get to it then, I'll meet you in the shop shortly."

* * *

After a shower and getting dressed, Mark is already sweating again. He grabs a rag to wipe his brow then heads to the door. When he opens it, he finds Ezri poised to press the button for the chime. In full Starfleet attire, she is obviously feeling the heat—her hair is soaked.

"Well hi there, beautiful!" Mark greets her with a huge smile.

Ezri shakes her head, flinging perspiration from her short hair. She points to her damp scalp with a pained expression. "Please tell me you're going to fix this," she says.

"As soon as they tell us what to do, we'll be on it. In the meantime…" Mark winks, "I could give you a reason to not mind that so much."

Ezri lowers her brow, makes a shushing shape with her lips, and quickly glances both ways down the hall.

"What?" Mark is puzzled by her reaction.

"I wanted to talk to you about that before you met up with Bill, or anyone else."

Ezri pushes Mark back into his quarters far enough for the door to close behind them.

"What's gotten into you?" Mark asks.

"Do you remember what we talked about at the replimat yesterday?"

"Oh no… did Worf find out about our night together?" Mark's eyes open wide and an extra bead of sweat forms on his forehead.

"No, not that…" Ezri steps closer and puts her hands on Mark's arms. She whispers despite the closed door and hesitates, "The part about… making what we did… a habit."

"Oh… I remember, but I didn't think you would seriously…"

"Consider it?" Ezri finishes his sentence then moves even closer, pressing against Mark, "You'd have to work pretty hard to talk me out of it now."

"Uh… now?" Mark tries to read her signals.

"Are you kidding? We'd die in this heat!" Ezri scoffs, "But am I giving you any incentive to fix the environmental system any faster?"

Mark smiles while more sweat runs down his face, "You most definitely are."

Ezri takes a small step away and wipes her forehead with her sleeve, "Now, I would like to discuss some terms."

"Terms? Am I signing a contract?"

"No, but I'd like there to be some ground rules."

Mark rolls his eyes.

"Hey now," Ezri furrows her brow. "You haven't even heard them yet."

Mark sighs and looks her in the eyes, patiently waiting to hear the 'terms'.

"OK, I want to keep the intimacy a secret."

"Why?" Mark asks, "Bill and Kira already know we spent a night together."

"I know, and we need to ask them to keep that a secret."

"Why can't anyone know we've slept together?"

"In time, maybe it won't bother me so much… but right now I don't want 'us' to be everyone's favorite conversation. I want people to see us as being sensible adults getting to know each other at a casual pace, not throwing ourselves at each other like academy freshmen."

"We don't have to do this you know. I can be patient… I really can."

Ezri puts both hands behind Mark's neck, pulling his head closer and pressing their sweat-soaked foreheads together to stare him right in the eyes.

"Well, I can't," she says, "I admit it. You started with a purely emotional attachment to me and I've found that I've developed a very strong… _physical_ attachment to you. I'm embarrassed by it, but there it is. I just… want some time for the scales to balance a bit before the entire station knows. Is that too much to ask?"

"Wow…" Mark doesn't know what to say. The night they had spent together had involved alcohol and pent-up hormonal urges. At the replimat, Ezri herself had said she felt she had used him. Mark hadn't seen it at the time, but he was basically an opportunistic target for her that night, little more than a one night stand. Though it may only be physical for how, to hear Ezri say that she's attracted to him in any respect is amazing.

Ezri searches Mark's dark brown eyes as if watching the storm of thoughts unfold within. "I'm sorry, I know it's not quite what you were hoping for, but…"

"It's a pretty good start," Mark smiles, "Secrecy it is."

"Good," Ezri releases her hold on Mark's neck and takes a step back, "Thank you."

"Are there any more terms I need to know about?"

"If you can fix the temperature in here… we can negotiate the rest tonight."

* * *

Mark walks into the maintenance shop, relieved to find that this section of the station still has functioning environmental controls. He finds Bill sitting at a computer terminal speaking with an engineer.

"There was a central control system surge that fused several pump regulators on heat exchangers in the affected areas," the engineer states. "We're working to replace the failed central control components now, and we've begun replicating replacement regulators."

"So we can just pick 'em up and swap 'em out?" Bill asks.

"Correct," the engineer says, "but none of them will be reactivated until we've completed work on this end. The collateral damage here was significant; it could be several hours."

"Well then," Bill rubs his hands together, "Let us get our hands on those contraptions when you get a few and point us to where they go. We'll try and swap 'em all out by the time you're done. How many are we talkin'?"

"I have a list of forty failed regulators and their locations."

"Whoo boy!" Bill exclaims, "I hope they're a quick swap!"

"It will take approximately thirty minutes to exchange each regulator."

Mark does the math in his head and his mood sinks. Intimate or not, he had really hoped to spend more time with Ezri this evening.

"Hey, fella," Bill addresses the engineer, "What if we prioritize the swaps? Can we get nominal regulation with strategic replacements?"

The engineer chews his lip and looks down as he taps on a PADD. "That could work. I can send you a modified list that could let you get by with half of them for now. The reactor will be a bit on the high side of nominal, but environmental levels should be good. Nice catch on utilizing the redundancy of the system. Our team will deliver batches of parts as we make them."

"Thank you, son. Bill out."

Mark sighs with relief and his spirits improve. Ten hours is a long day, but it's much better than a long night working with Bill when he could otherwise be staying with Ezri.

"There you are, son," Bill says as he turns from the console to Mark. "I reckon you heard the plan?"

"Yes I did. Looks like a long day ahead of us."

"A long, _hot_ day. Though it should get better when they get things fixed on the reactor end."

Mark fidgets a bit after Bill stops talking.

"You look like you've got a question itchin' to come out, son, go on."

"I wanted to know…" Mark begins nervously. "Have you told anyone that Ezri and I spent the night together?"

"Bah! Now why would I do that?" Bill lies as he had already told Worf.

"I know you, Bill. You love to tell stories."

"That I do, son, but I respect your privacy. I won't tell a soul." Bill holds one hand up and places the other over his heart as if taking a pledge.

"Thanks, Bill. I appreciate that. We don't want anyone to get the wrong idea based on one evening of drinks and loose judgment."

As the two get ready for work, both wear uneasy expressions. Bill had lied to Mark as he'd already shared the secret, and Mark was lying to Bill by implying his night with Ezri would not be repeated.

* * *

Ezri takes a deep breath of cool air as the turbolift reaches the Promenade when she discovers that temperature regulation is still working properly here. After grabbing breakfast from a replicator at the replimat, she finds Kira at a table looking fresh and clean, enjoying some steaming Groatcakes with Squill Syrup. Ezri holds her tray of cold juice and fruit, staring at Kira in awe.

"What?" Kira asks. "Did I get syrup on my face?"

"No, you're… clean. Too clean. How can you eat hot food and drink raktajino at a time like this? I thought your quarters were affected by the environmental system breakdown too."

Ezri sets her tray down and points to her soaked head to illustrate the severity of the problem.

"Oh," Kira chuckles at Ezri's sad appearance, "The O'Brien's quarters weren't affected and…"

"They let you use their shower?" Ezri's words drip with jealousy.

"Mm hmm," Kira nods after taking another bite of her hot breakfast. "You know, I practically lived there while I carried Yoshi."

Ezri, still warm from being in the overheated section of the habitat ring, sits down and savors a cool bite of melon. She points her fork at Kira as she finishes chewing.

"I need to talk to you. About yesterday morning. In the hallway?"

Kira swallows a sip of her steaming drink and rolls her eyes, "If you're going to tell me any more about your night with Mark, I don't want to hear it."

"No, you were pretty clear yesterday that I need to keep that to myself. Which brings me to a request…"

"You don't want me to tell anyone, do you."

Ezri puts on her best puppy-dog face, which is augmented by her wet hair and damp skin.

"You know, a lot of people ask me about the two of you," Kira takes in her friend's pathetic display and sighs. "OK, I'll leave that part out, but you owe me."

"Thank you," Ezri smiles and reaches across the table to hold Kira's hand as a gesture of appreciation, but Kira avoids Ezri's touch.

"What?" Ezri is surprised at the snub.

"You need a shower… badly"

* * *

Bill and Mark have received the first batch of pump regulators and are hard at work replacing failed units. The heat afflicting the majority of the habitat ring is bad enough without participating in manual labor.

"Hand me a small coupler, would you, son?" Bill asks.

Mark grabs the tool from his pouch, but it slips from his sweaty hand as he passes it to Bill. Mark's frustration is obvious as he picks it up. "This is miserable, Bill! I don't know if we'll be able to keep this up all day."

"Just keep drinkin' water, son. And remember, when they get the central unit fixed, they'll turn on what we've replaced already and it'll start gettin' better."

As they continue working, a door opens nearby and a young Bajoran woman peeks out. When she sees the two men, she steps out and walks towards them.

"Oh thank goodness!" she says, "I heard voices, and I hoped it was someone coming to do _something_ about this _horrible_ heat."

Mark and Bill quickly notice that this young woman is dressed for the unbearable temperature, wearing something more resembling a swimsuit than typical, casual clothes. Mark gets up from his crouch to address her.

"We're working as fast as we can, miss, but it'll still be some time before the temperature will improve."

The woman makes no effort to disguise her assessment of Mark as they stand in the hall. She bats her eyes at him and smiles. "Would it help if I brought you something cool to drink?"

"Thank you, miss, but we have plenty of cold water with us," Mark replies.

"Alright…" the woman pauses expectantly, obviously fishing for a name.

"Mark."

"Nice to meet you, Mark, I'm Larna," she smiles. "This is my door… in case you need _anything_."

The woman points to her door and lingers with a broad smile and a prolonged stare at Mark before finally retreating into her quarters. Mark quickly gets back to work.

Bill stares at his young partner, "Son? Are you alright?"

"I'm hot and uncomfortable… so no, I'm not alright."

"You did see what just happened, right?"

"A nice woman came out and offered us something to drink, and…?"

"That 'nice woman' eyed you somethin' fierce and coaxed your name from you, not to mention her choice in apparel."

"What of it, Bill? It's hot as hell; her clothes were no surprise."

"If you want to call what she was wearin' 'clothes'…" Bill blinks. "And just where's your head been, boy? That woman got to her quarters not 15 minutes ago. She dressed down and prettied up just to come back out and chat you up."

"Nonsense. And why were you taking such an interest? What are you, like seventy-something?"

"I'm not dead, if that's what you're askin'. A man with no smell can still admire the flowers, son."

Mark does a double-take at Bill's odd euphemism. "Bill, all I know is, if we get this job done in decent time, I'll have a date tonight."

"Oh… I see. Fair 'nough. But I'll hafta start callin' you 'heartbreaker'."

"There's only one of those I'm worried about right now."

* * *

Mark trudges into his quarters after he and Bill finish with their work. It took them almost twelve hours, but they'd replaced all the pump regulators slated for the day. The rest they can finish up over the following days. Despite the central system becoming operational hours ago, Bill and Mark's work had kept them in areas with marginal environmental control function. Mark orders a cold synthale from the replicator and runs the cold glass along his forehead before drinking it like water. His back and arms ache from removing and replacing access panels and swapping out pump regulators for long hours. After a second glass of the non-alcoholic, replicated beer, Mark practically falls onto the couch and quickly dozes off.

Mark wakes to a prolonged door chime.

"Yeah, come in," he groans.

The door opens and a clean, cool, and content Ezri walks in. "You guys did it! Great work!"

Mark squints at the bright light and Ezri's excited voice. He sits up and rubs his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Ezri says, "were you sleeping?"

"It's OK. It was a long day. I just needed to doze for a bit. What time is it?"

"It's time to finalize some ground rules," she smiles.

Mark groans again and leans back on the couch, not at all in sync with Ezri's playful mood.

"OK, we've already covered ground rule number one," Ezri smiles, then puts her finger against her lips. "Shhh."

"Yep. Got that one," Mark rolls his eyes.

"You don't seem very interested, Mark. How about I start over." Ezri unzips her jacket. "Rule number one, discretion."

Ezri finishes removing her Starfleet jacket and tosses it aside. She starts to lift the bottom of her blue shirt.

"Rule number two…"

Mark quickly gets on board with the 'ground rule' mnemonic game that Ezri has spontaneously created, but he can't honestly recall any of them beyond number two…


	9. Keeping Secrets

**Keeping Secrets**

Mark sits in his quarters, drinking coffee and grinning to himself. He and Ezri have decided to attempt a bold approach to developing their relationship and so far it's working out very well. While taking small steps to learn more about each other in the public eye, privately they are sharing more and more intimate time together. Every second he is able to spend with Ezri is blissful, so he readily agreed to some 'ground rules' they established a couple of weeks earlier which includes keeping the intimate part of their relationship secret for the time being. While Bill and Kira both know of their first night together and have so far been keeping the secret, Mark and Ezri don't want to push their luck by letting them in on their continued affairs. Luckily, neither of them have grown suspicious.

As he reflects on his recent time with Ezri, Mark hears the door chime. He knows for a fact that it can't be Ezri at his door, so odds are it must be Bill. He quickly grabs a few things from around the living room as Bill becomes impatient and hits the chime twice more.

"I know you're in there, son. Open up!"

Mark reluctantly approaches the door and opens it, centering himself in the doorway.

"What is it, Bill?" Mark tries to not let his breathing give away his frantic tidying. "It's a bit early, isn't it?"

"We've got a repair job that came up, but we've got to get some things ready in the shop first. I was hopin' we could get an early start."

"Sure thing," Mark says while nervously tapping on the door frame. "When do you need me in the shop?"

"Son?" Bill peers around Mark's shoulder. "Ain't that a Starfleet jersey on your couch over yonder?"

"I, uh… where?" Mark curses inside at his rushed oversight.

"And ain't that your shower I hear runnin'?"

"Yeah… I was just getting ready to hop in when you came by."

"Mm hmm," Bill squints at a man who's clean and dressed for the day.

"I can meet you in the shop in about twenty minutes," Mark says, eager for Bill to be on his way.

"Oh no, son, you take _all_ the time you need," Bill grins knowingly and chuckles as he turns from the door.

Mark groans, knowing that Bill had figured out exactly what was going on. Bill may be old, but he isn't stupid. Given the promise of secrecy Bill made to Mark about his first night with Ezri, Mark isn't too concerned, but he'll have to talk with Bill about it later just to be safe. He considers Bill's suggestion to take his time and chuckles deviously to himself before heading into the bathroom.

"Well, hello," Ezri says with surprise. "Who was at the door? Wait…what are you doing? Hey… this thing isn't big enough for… I've got to get ready… This is close to breaking rule number three… You'll get me in trouble… Oh hell with it…"

* * *

Ezri steps off of the turbolift in Ops, prompting a curious glance from Kira.

"Well, good morning. Glad you could join us today." Kira smirks at Ezri flustered appearance.

"I'm sorry, I was talking and lost track of time. You know how I can carry on."

"I most certainly do…" Kira rolls her eyes. "You didn't miss much, just an echoey rendition of 'Salley Gardens' by Mr. O'Brien."

"You coulda told me you could hear me from the service duct," Miles comments. "I woulda piped down."

"But it was so _good_, chief!" Kira replies with a strained smile.

"I'm sorry I missed it," Ezri says as she stops next to Kira at her station.

Kira leans over and whispers in Ezri's ear. "Why do I have a feeling you were tied up with something much more entertaining than a sappy Irish folk song?"

"What? What do you mean?" Ezri blinks.

Kira examines Ezri's guilty expression and grins, "Now I'm _sure_ of it. You were with Mark again, weren't you?"

"Yes," Ezri sighs at being so transparent. "You haven't told anyone about the other night have you?"

"No, I've kept that promise, but I see there's more to not talk about now."

"There is, but we're trying to keep that… quiet. With the war going on, gossip like this gets undue attention. And… I don't know how Worf would take it."

Kira squints at Ezri, "Now wait a minute. You asked me to keep one night private while having every intention of doing it again?"

"Not at first," Ezri's eyes plead for forgiveness. "I'm sorry. Right now our time 'together' feels private. It lets us be ourselves on the station without having to deal with the B.S. And don't forget, you said you didn't want to hear any more about it. Please?"

Kira puts a hand on her head as she contemplates her friend's request, considering the information Ezri had withheld, despite the pretense.

"I think you're twisting my words a bit," Kira says. "My continued silence may have a price."

"Hey," Ezri is surprised by her friend's tactic. "That's blackmail, you know."

"Uh huh," Kira nods and smiles.

"There's a lot o' whispering going on over there," Miles calls out from across Ops.

Ezri looks up nervously, afraid the chief may have heard the topic of their discussion.

"It's that duct," he continues. "The acoustics are terrible. But I'm sure I didn't sound nearly as bad as Kira's telling you."

Kira lowers her chin and whispers, "A _hefty_ price…"

* * *

Mark sighs as he prepares to enter the maintenance shop. Bill is a talkative old man, so it may be difficult to persuade, or even expect, him to keep Mark's extra time with Ezri a secret. He's actually surprised the old man has managed to keep their first night together a secret _this _long. As soon as he sees Bill, Mark calls out to him to begin negotiating the terms.

"Hey, Bill! I'll do the next few window and floor scrubbing jobs myself if you promise not to tell anyone that Ezri and I have been…"

Bill snaps his head towards Mark, lowers his brow, and subtly shakes his head.

"You and Ezri have been… what exactly?" Mark doesn't know the voice, but he quickly recognizes the captain's face as he steps around a cabinet.

"Sir! I…"

Bill quickly talks over Mark, "It's OK, son. There's really no harm in tellin' him."

Mark can do nothing but look at the captain's expectant stare in utter terror.

Bill continues, "The boy here's been keepin' your lieutenant up late some nights."

Mark's panic is almost palpable as the captain's eyebrows raise slightly.

"Oh?" Sisko says with a hint of a smile.

"Seems he's gotten her hooked on this new holosuite program for shuttle racin'," Bill says.

"Uh… yessir," Mark stammers. "She's uh… an amazing pilot."

"That she is," Sisko says, then tilts his head forward and eyes Mark closely, "and I remember that stunt in the Gamma Quadrant. That was you, wasn't it?"

"It'll never happen again, sir."

Sisko lifts his chin back up and taps it with his index finger, "Dax claims you have quite a 'gift' for flying… and we could surely use more pilots. It's a shame that 'gift' isn't wrapped in a Starfleet uniform."

Mark starts to feel relief as Sisko's tone softens, but the captain's tapping stops and he quickly points at him.

"But!" the captain says sternly. "Since it isn't, I don't want to hear of you touching the controls of one of my ships again. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now… speaking of holosuites, Bill. I got my hands on the 1975 World Series."

"Let's see… 1975… Reds over the Red Sox? One of those games ran 12 innings, I recall. What a doozy!"

"Game six! And it _was_ a doozy," Sisko smiles. "We'll have to round up the other fans on the station and watch it soon. I'll let you know when I set it up."

"Sounds great, Ben."

Mark is stunned that Bill and the captain know each other on a first-name basis, but he's happy to see the captain turn his attention elsewhere. Unfortunately, his respite is short-lived.

"And you…" Sisko turns back to Mark. "Keep your flying to the holosuites. I don't want you mistreating my runabouts… or my lieutenant."

Sisko winks, and Mark's gut twists all over again.

"Sir?"

Bill bows his head.

"What did you tell him, Bill?" Mark asks as his shoulders slump.

Sisko laughs and pats Mark's shoulder, "He didn't have to tell me anything. It's Mark, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Mark, I've known Dax for a _long_ time. Curzon was a real ladies' man, and you could always tell when he was…_ involved_ with someone. There was a certain… look in his eye. Ezri's had that same look for over a week now, and I was just getting ready to ask Bill about it when you came in."

"We were trying to keep that… between us."

"I gathered that when Bill tried to cover for you. You know… another, wiser Benjamin once said: 'Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.' Good luck with four."

"Five, sir," Mark sighs. "Kira knows… about the first time anyway."

Bill chews his lip as he has told Worf which would make six.

Sisko notices Bill's nervous gesture and grins, "Well, then. I don't believe I'll have to keep this secret for very long at all."

Mark's head drops. This kind of attention from the senior brass is not what he was hoping for, and exactly the kind of thing he promised Ezri he would try to avoid.

Sisko picks up a PADD and starts to leave the shop. "'75 World Series, Bill. I'll let you know. And check in with the chief when you're ready to suit up for those repairs."

After Sisko leaves, Bill chuckles.

"D'you hear that, son? You're under the spell of a ladies' man."

"Oh, shut up, Bill."

* * *

Bill and Mark are in environment suits, heading towards their target and waiting for additional instructions outside the hull of Deep Space Nine.

"I still don't see why we're involved in this one, Bill," Mark says. "A targeting array seems like something an engineering team should be working on."

"They are," Bill answers. "There's a whole team of 'em modifyin' somethin'-or-other inside and calibratin' the whole deal with their weapon systems. We're out here to turn wrenches for rough adjustments when they say so, then they'll fine tune it from inside. When they're happy with everything, we button her up tight and call it a day."

Mark sighs and continues the laborious trek in mag-boots along the hull. "How is it that you know the captain?"

"Shared interests I reckon. Baseball primarily."

After trudging most of the way to the array in their mag boots, Chief O'Brien comes over the comms, interrupting their conversation. "O'Brien to the external team. Are you in position to make adjustments?"

"Almost there, chief," Bill replies. "Give us two more minutes."

"You're not going to claim someone toyed with your mag-boots again are ya?"

"Nope, not this time. I ain't afraid to admit it anymore… I'm gettin' old."

Miles chuckles, "OK, Bill. Let us know when you're there."

"Will do, Miles."

Mark looks over at Bill, "Is there anyone on this station you _don't_ know?"

"Bill's been here long as any of us," Miles answers for Bill, "and you can't miss anyone that sour forever."

"I'm only sour at you, Miles. Ask anyone," Bill jokes.

"Yeah, Miles, it's just you," a random engineer says over the comms.

"What? I thought everyone loved me?"

"Everyone but me," Bill laughs.

Mark blinks and shakes his head as several laughs come over the comms. He'd never seen Bill socialize with others on the station, but he'd only been on the station for a couple of months compared to Bill's six plus years. There is still a lot to this old man that Mark doesn't know.

Bill taps a couple of comm buttons on his suit and looks over to Mark. "I mostly know guys and gals on the engineering team… through join projects like this one. The captain's an exception. He's a well-grounded feller. Not afraid to bump elbows with the likes of me."

After a couple more minutes of trudging, Bill taps his comm buttons again and calls out to the team. "Well, with all that gabbin' eatin' the time, the boy and I are already at the array."

"Alright," Miles begins. "I need you to adjust the Z axis up five degrees, and… take the Y axis down eight. We'll see where that puts us."

"OK, you'll have it in just a minute."

Mark and Bill make the required adjustments quickly and report in. "Check her now, chief."

"OK, you two. That looks good for now. Sit tight while we fine tune it, then you can clamp it down. About 30 minutes or so."

Mark groans, "I hate just waiting around."

Bill taps his comms again. "Yeap, not much to do out here, 'cept chit chat about what's goin' on in our lives…"

"Don't even start Bill, I've already told you I'm not going to give you any details about my nights with Ezri."

"What did he say?" a random voice says over the comms.

"Is he talking about Dax?" another engineer ponders.

"Who was talking? Anyone know who that was?" a third voice asks.

"Alright, pipe it down boys and girls," Miles says. "And Bill, you may want to have your boy check his comm settings."

Mark's heart practically stops. He'd not switched his comms to a private channel to Bill before mentioning Ezri.

Bill laughs, "Well, son, I guess I don't have to worry about that secret of yours anymore."

* * *

Kira stands at her station in Ops when Ezri comes in with a small package.

"You found some? Already?" Kira smiles at the sight.

"I had to trade favors with Quark," Ezri whispers, "but I have a box of Rigelian chocolates with your name on it. Now… you _promise_ not to tell anyone about my time with Mark beyond casual dates?"

"That was the deal," Kira happily reaches for the box of bliss. "These are my favorite!"

While Kira and Ezri are talking, two engineers step off the turbolift.

"So, who was that on the comms that says he's sleeping with Ezri?" One of them asks the other.

"I don't know him," the second engineer replies. "Bill's son, I think. I didn't even know he had one."

Ezri drops her jaw and follows the pair with wide eyes. Kira starts to reach for the box of chocolates but Ezri pulls it away.

"Oh, sorry ma'am," the first engineer says sheepishly to Ezri as he spots her.

"Over the comms? To how many people?!" Ezri asks, absolutely shocked.

"Oh… enough," the second one answers, "but I'd guess half the station knows by now."

"I can't believe it!" Ezri turns back to Kira, whose hands are still poised to receive the box.

"Kira… the favor I promised Quark to get my hands on this isn't worth it if everyone knows." Ezri says. "I'll have to see if he can find another buyer. I still can't believe you were going to trade a friend's privacy for chocolate."

Kira looks at Ezri and makes an exaggerated bite with her exposed teeth, clicking her jaws together. Ezri recalls a private conversation they had where some intimate details about Klingon biting habits arose.

"But he doesn't even _do_ that!"

Kira shrugs and tilts her head slightly.

"You wouldn't!" Ezri narrows her eyes and exclaims in a loud whisper, "You'd really start a rumor like that about us to get this?"

"Hey, it's Rigelian," Kira points to the box in Ezri's hands. "What can I say?"

After Kira raises her eyebrows and glances at the box again, Ezri shoves it into Kira' hands emphatically.

"Here. I hope you make yourself sick," Ezri scowls, then turns to leave Ops. "I've got something I need to take care of."

* * *

Mark is sitting in Quark's bar, nearing the bottom of a pint and staring at it intently. A man Mark recognizes from the maintenance staff walks by and pats Mark's shoulder.

"Way to go, man! Doin' us little guys proud!"

Mark rolls his eyes as the man walks off.

"Let's see, that's the third 'congratulations' since you've sat down," Quark says from behind the bar. "You just need a few more of those to pass up the number of people who've said you made up this business with Dax. The last one of those was quite crude about it."

Mark sighs and stares at his now empty drink, "You're keeping score?"

"I've got a couple of wagers going on the subject, nothing personal," Quark says. "But you know… I've been meaning to thank you. That shuttle program of yours has become quite popular with some customers with a healthy appetite for alcohol. It's been a win-win. Your next drink is on the house."

Mark lifts his eyes and manages a brief smile as Quark sets another pint in front of him. As soon as Quark's hand moves away, another hand appears from nowhere, grabs the fresh drink, and dumps it on Mark's head. Mark reacts before seeing the culprit.

"What the hell?! Mister, you better… oh shit."

"'Oh shit' is right," Ezri sneers, "What, you decided to ignore our agreement and brag about your conquest now? Is that it?"

"No, honey, I…"

Quark winces at Mark's choice of words and shakes his head.

"Honey?! Is that what you're going to call me now? You… you are in so much trouble I can't even… What the hell are _you_ looking at?!" Ezri briefly turns her rage on a nearby patron.

"Ezri, I…" Mark tries to speak.

"I'm not done with you! No, on second thought… I _am_ done with you! I was giving this a chance. Avoiding _this_ kind of attention," Ezri points to the small audience that's gathered, "was very important to me. You've just proven that I can't trust you, so I am done!"

Ezri turns and storms out of the bar before Mark has a chance to say a word.

Quark sets a fresh pint in front of Mark, "Here, since I have a feeling you'll be buying plenty more on your own soon enough, this one's on the house too."

* * *

Ezri storms through the Promenade after leaving Quark's. Sisko sees the look on her face and moves to intercept.

"Whoa, Dax," Benjamin says. "It looks like you're on your way to do someone some serious harm. Should I be alerting security, or Doctor Bashir?"

Ezri tilts her head forward and glares at him out of the top of her eyes, prompting Sisko to recoil and put his hands up.

"That bad, old man? Does this have anything to do with that new friend of yours?"

"I want nothing more to do with that man, and I _don't _want to talk about it."

"What on Earth did he do? He didn't commandeer another runabout did he?" Sisko tries to joke. "Because if he did, I'll hurt him for you."

Ezri lets out a long sigh. "We had a deal to try and keep a low profile while we're dating, and now he's gone and blabbed about us over an open channel to an entire engineering team. Practically half the station knows that we've been sleeping together!"

Sisko glances to his right and sighs. Ezri follows his glance and looks over to see Julian and Worf standing nearby. Julian's eyes are wide open and he makes a loud slurping sound as his mug slowly tips away from his lips. Worf just blinks. Ezri lifts her hands up and throws them down in frustration.

"And now _they_ know too!" Ezri points at the pair with an outstretched arm.

"I was already aware," Worf admits.

"I had it figured out a few days ago," Julian says. "The change in your daily routines suggested…"

"I think you can skip the analysis, doctor," Sisko says. "Old man, I would venture a guess that everyone who knows you can tell that you've been involved with someone. I knew something was going on when you told me about the Gamma Quadrant stunt, and lately you've had the same look about you that Curzon would get when he would be…"

"OK, you can stop!" Ezri knew where Ben was headed and didn't want it shared given the present company. She turns to Worf, "You knew?! Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did not wish to witness the extent of your courtship," Worf answers. "Feigning ignorance was… most effective."

Ezri narrows her eyes and huffs at Worf's response.

Miles overhears the conversation while walking towards Quark's and chimes in. "Are you talking about Bill's son?" he asks.

Sisko nods, "He's not really his son but… yes."

"Oh, I for one feel sorry for the poor man. Bill got him so flustered he forgot he was on an open channel with the team. He's been catching all kinds of hell since he implied that he was…"

Ezri puts her hand on her hip and tilts her head, waiting to see how Miles finishes his sentence.

"Oh… so he… you two really…?" Miles babbles and Sisko nods again.

Miles holds up a finger then points it to his left, "Right then… I'll be in Quark's."

Miles escapes to Quarks' and Ezri turns back to Sisko, "Benjamin…"

"Dax…" Sisko interrupts. "The man makes you happy, what happened was an accident, and even Worf… approves?"

Sisko turns to Worf, who growls slightly before answering. "Yes. I… approve."

"You see? There is no reason for you to go hurt the man that everyone here agrees has been good for you."

Julian puts up a finger, "Sir, I didn't actually…"

Sisko shoots a quick glance at the doctor.

"Ah, yes… totally unanimous," Julian abandons his intended statement. "No reason at all to take it out on the poor soul."

Ezri puts her hand on her forehead and groans.

"It's too late, isn't it, old man," Sisko speculates.

"Mark was in Quark's when I found him. I yelled at him."

"Oh," Sisko reacts.

"Actually, first I poured a beer on his head."

"Ouch," Julian cringes.

"_Then_ I yelled at him. I told him we were done."

Worf grins in silence until Julian nudges him, "That is… unfortunate."

"Old man," Sisko puts a hand on Ezri's shoulder, "it seems you have an apology to make."

* * *

Mark, still soaked from the full pint that Ezri dumped on him earlier, is talking with Miles in Quark's bar.

"Sorry about your luck, Mark," Miles says. "Dax can have quite a temper at times."

"Yeah, she once told me that one of her personalities wants me dead."

"From the look I saw on her face outside, I'd say the tally's up to at least four."

"You know, it wasn't that long ago, all I wanted was to know her name and to buy her a drink."

"And now half the station knows that you've…"

"Yeah…"

"Yep."

The two men stare straight ahead and take a drink in silence. Ezri strides into the bar, seeing Mark's depressed stare towards the wall.

"Heads up, buddy," a man who saw the earlier exchange calls out, "that lady is back to finish the job!"

"Can it!" Ezri says firmly as she shoots a harsh glare at the man.

Mark sighs and turns around, preparing to receive more hurtful yelling. Instead, Ezri grabs his arm and yanks him from his bar stool, causing Mark to stumble from the unexpected maneuver. Ezri grabs him, puts her hands on the sides of his head, and starts to kiss him passionately. Miles and several patrons just look on in shock.

Someone at the back of the bar mutters, "Pay up, Quark."

Ezri pulls away slightly and looks into Mark's eyes.

"I'm sorry about earlier, I over-reacted," Ezri says.

"You're a horrible counselor, you know that?" Mark replies.

"I have my moments. Now shut up and let's get you to a shower, some overly sensitive idiot poured beer all over you."

Ezri turns and scowls at the group of curious onlookers in the bar, "Then Mark and I… are going to have _sex_! Did everybody catch that?!"

Without another word, Ezri grabs Mark's arm and pulls him towards the door. Mark glances at Miles and shrugs with his free arm.

After they've left the bar amid gasps of shock from some patrons and cheers from others, Miles turns to Quark and raises his pint, "Mark my words, Quark. Those two are in it for the long haul."


	10. Out in the Open

**Out in the Open**

Only a couple of hours after the awkward scene in Quark's bar, Ezri and Mark lie in bed together, exhausted. As they lie there and recover from their fervent activity, Mark is the first to vocalize anything one could consider conversational.

"So… you dumped me for what, 15 minutes?"

Ezri is shocked, "You're going to bring that up _now_?"

"Well, yeah, because…"

"I had a friend blackmail me for chocolate over this, which I _still_ can't believe, and now you're going to put me on a guilt trip immediately after having sex?"

"Not at all! I was just going to say…" Mark shrugs, "that felt a lot like make-up sex to me."

"Oh," Ezri thinks for a second, then looks over with a frown and a wrinkled brow. "Should I be concerned that you consider yourself an expert on what make-up sex feels like?"

"Alright then, miss 'I'm over 300 years old'… what did that feel like to you?"

"Well, _I_ think that felt like 'we don't have to hide in the shadows anymore' sex."

"I don't think that's a real thing," Mark gives her a shrewd eye.

"You're right, I made that up," Ezri chuckles. "If it didn't mean having to make such a scene, I'd say we do that again sometime."

They laugh together, then Mark's eyes become more serious. "Ezri, I know I've said this before, but… I do love you. That was a very tough 15 minutes."

"I know, I'm sorry. And I guess I expressed my apology a bit differently than you would've preferred."

"I'm not complaining, I just… don't _ever _want to experience those 15 minutes again."

"Wait, you're not going to…" Ezri's weary eyes double in size.

"Nooo, don't worry. I know you're not ready for that. And I'm sorry that knowing I am makes you panic. I'll wait till you come around, however long that takes." Mark smiles and Ezri's brief scare subsides.

"OK then, sexpert… show me 'I want to make you want to marry me' sex."

"Gladly, but that will essentially be any we have until you say yes."

* * *

The next morning, Mark walks into the maintenance shop to start his shift with Bill. When he turns the corner towards his locker, he is caught off guard by what he finds. There are several hand-made or replicated signs littering the front of his personal locker. One is a large sign that reads "You Da Man!" and another large one reads "Lucky Bastard!" Most of the remaining notes and signs are much smaller in size. Some are congratulatory; many are crude. One is partially hidden behind one of the larger signs and reads: "How many names does she call out when you're…" Mark lifts the large sign out of the way to see if the author was trying to make some clever joined Trill joke, but he is not surprised by the simple vulgarity of it.

"I had nuthin' to do with that," Bill says as he enters the shop. "I saw it all there when I came in to grab my work list before goin' for some coffee."

"Now I know why Ezri wanted to keep things quiet. I can see how this could get distracting."

"It'll blow over. Despite the war, maintenance is a pretty dull profession. They'll get it outta their systems soon enough."

"I just hope _she_ isn't catching any flak."

"Aww, she'll be alright. In a past life she married a Klingon. I think she can handle any fallout from hangin' around with _you_."

"Would _you_ mess with anyone who married a Klingon?"

"You got a good point there, son."

* * *

Ezri wears a big smile as she walks to Ops to start her day. It had been her idea to keep her and Mark's intimate time together quiet, but it feels very good not to have to worry about the secret any longer. Her mood is pleasant and she feels borderline giddy about their relationship, and she finds she is no longer afraid to consider it that.

"Kira to Dax," Ezri hears Kira's troubled voice over the comm.

"Dax here, what's wrong?" Ezri's smile wavers.

"There's been an accident, you should get to the infirmary right away."

Ezri's smile vanishes completely, "What happened? Who's hurt?"

There's a long pause before Kira responds, which by itself is enough to cause Ezri's gut to twist.

"It's Mark," Kira says. The communication ends abruptly.

Ezri's heart plummets and she starts to sprint to the nearest turbolift.

* * *

Ezri slows to a jog as she enters the infirmary, breathing heavily.

"Julian?! Kira?! What happened? How's Mark?"

Finding the outer room of the infirmary empty and silent, Ezri heads back to the examination room, her heart rate increasing despite having ended her run. The room is quite and dark so Ezri begins to wonder if she heard Kira correctly.

"SURPRISE!" several voices yell as the lights come on.

Ezri had been so worked up that she lets out a short scream at the surprise. The faces of the entire senior staff and a handful of others transition quickly from festive smiles to guilty frowns at her fright.

"Where's Mark?! Is he OK?" Ezri says as the true nature of her summons hasn't fully registered.

"Ezri, it's your birthday…" Kira says, seeing that she hasn't realized why they are there.

"But… you said Mark… was hurt?" Ezri is still panting from her run and the scare.

"Yes, he's fine… I'm sorry. I was improvising. I wanted to get you here and I had to think fast when you asked for a name. I didn't mean to scare you."

Ezri bends over, bracing her hands on her knees, and breathes deeply as she recovers.

Kira puts a hand on her shoulder, "Ezri, I knew you two were dating, but I didn't realize how strongly you felt about him. You've been so casual about it. I never would have used his name if…"

"It's OK, you didn't know. To be honest, _I_ didn't know."

Ezri catches her breath and stands upright.

"I should have invited him here for this," Kira says with regret. "You could probably use him right now."

"It's OK," Ezri hugs her friend tightly. "You'll do for now."

"So… are we good?" Miles asks. "Because I've been staring at this cake _way_ too long."

"Yes, we're good," Ezri smiles. "Thank you, everyone. Sorry for killing the mood."

Sisko leans over and whispers, "Did you forget your own birthday, old man?"

Ezri shrugs, "I have so many to keep track of for myself; I get confused sometimes."

"So does that mean you're not going to hold it against your new boyfriend if he doesn't know it either?"

Ezri drops her jaw slightly and widens her eyes, "Damn. And I don't know his either. I'd have no right to hold it against him, and what does this say about my level of commitment?"

"So, it's a _commitment_ now?" Sisko raises an eyebrow.

"Yes," Ezri smiles. "Yes it is."

"Then he'll get over it."

Sisko pats her on the back as the rest of the people in the room step over to wish Ezri a happy birthday.

* * *

Mark and Bill are in the maintenance shop, repairing some damaged access panels. Mark is sandblasting paint and burn residue from the panels and Bill is using a press to straighten them out.

"Why sandblasting, Bill? This seems quite archaic."

"Tried and true, son. Serves a dual purpose. Removes the old, and roughs up the surface to accept the new. Phaser-strippin' leaves a slick surface that doesn't accept new coatings very well."

"Why can't we just replicate new panels, coating and all?"

"Some materials just don't come out right. Sure, you can make all the ingredients end up in the pan, but it takes a real oven to bake a cake."

"That makes no sense, Bill. A replicator can make a cake just fine."

"Pardon my analogy then, son." Bill squints at Mark through his safety glasses. "I'm no quantum-particle-warp-scientist; I just know that panels like these come out brittle when you replicate 'em. These panels are s'posed to contain energy when somethin' behind 'em blows, not send shrapnel every-which-way."

"We've sure been getting a lot of them lately."

"Yep, with the war and lots of ships dockin' here for repairs, we'll be getting plenty more."

Mark goes back to sandblasting, and Bill starts humming a tune while he continues to straighten panels.

Suddenly, Mark is grabbed from behind in a bear hug. The sandblaster had masked the sound of approaching footsteps and he hadn't heard anyone call out to him. About the time his startled reaction subsides, the unknown assailant eases up their grip. He turns around to find Ezri, wearing a frown and a furrowed brow.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Mark asks.

"I just… needed to see you."

Mark isn't sure how to react. His forehead wrinkles as he tries to comprehend Ezri's display of emotion. He thinks of the unkind signs on his locker and wonders if someone with a bad opinion of their relationship has gotten her upset.

"Are you OK? What happened?"

Ezri hugs Mark properly now that they're facing each other and she begins to ramble.

"Kira said there was an accident, and that you were hurt, and I got to the infirmary as fast as I could, and when I got there they turned on the lights and yelled, and it was just for my birthday, and," Ezri takes a quick breath, "they said you were OK but as soon as I could I wanted to see you with my own eyes, and I wanted you to hold me."

Mark is dumbfounded. Despite his brain's confusion, his heart swells from the affection emanating from the woman whose heart he's been chasing for weeks. He holds her tightly as she sighs heavily.

"Thank you," she says. "I needed this."

"Wait a minute… It's your birthday?"

Ezri releases Mark and straightens her jacket, "It is. Can you believe I totally forgot about it myself?"

"Honestly? Yes."

Ezri sighs and a slight, crooked smile appears, "When's yours?"

"A couple of months off yet… why?"

"We're in a relationship, silly. We're supposed to know these things."

Mark smiles, "It means a lot to hear you call what we have a "relationship" now. I was crazy about you from the moment I saw you, we dated casually, then we…"

"Yeah… that," Ezri glances over at Bill and blushes.

"I know we're still not in the same place on everything," Mark says, "but this? This is nice."

Ezri smiles back, "It is. It's very nice."

Bill loudly sets a heavy panel down onto a worktable, causing both Ezri and Mark to jump.

"Would you two just get on out of here already? Get a coffee, get a room, just get somethin' outside of my shop," Bill groans, feigning annoyance. "It's hard to work with all that," Bill makes some rapid and exaggerated kissing sounds, "goin' on over there."

"Alright, grumpy," Mark laughs. "We'll get out of your hair."

"And don't be teasin' me about my hair, son. It may be thinnin' up top, but I ain't got to where I can fire my barber just yet."

Ezri chuckles and takes a hold of Mark's hand as they walk out of the maintenance shop.

* * *

After upsetting her friend by saying Mark was injured to lure Ezri to the infirmary, Kira is reading in her quarters. Ezri had accepted her apology, but she still needed something to take her mind off of it and Odo was still on duty. After getting to a warm and comforting exchange in her romance novel, Kira's computer console beeps, signaling an incoming message. She sets her book down and sighs as she gets up, walks to the desk, and presses the button to accept the communication.

"Colonel Kira here," she greets the unknown caller.

An elderly Bajoran man appears on the screen. "Greetings, colonel. You are the liaison officer between our government and the Federation on Deep Space Nine, correct?"

"That's correct. To whom am I speaking?"

"Minister Jarnel, from the Ministry of Commerce."

"Minister," Kira straightens her casual posture. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"Relax, colonel. I have but a minor issue I need your temporary assistance with."

"Of course, minister," Kira nods yet maintains a formal posture. "What can I do for you?"

"We've had a sudden… gap in personnel here, and I need you to briefly undertake an additional role on behalf of our government."

"With all due respect, minister, with the war between us and the Dominion…"

"The _Federation_ and the Dominion, colonel. Remember that distinction."

"Yes, but…"

"And don't worry, this won't take much of your time. The previous party responsible spent as little time as possible maintaining their duties… which brings us to this situation."

"That being?"

"We began to investigate a particular minor official's practices, and he took it amongst himself to become scarce and begin an early retirement. Unfortunately, we've yet to arrange a permanent replacement, so I have asked your superiors' permission to have you keep an eye on things until we do."

"I still have no idea what you're asking of me."

"Ah yes, Station Facilities Management."

"I'm not familiar with the…"

"The maintenance staff, Colonel. Responsible for routine and mundane facility care that falls below the skill set of the station's engineering staff."

"I see…"

"It takes care of itself really, as our last manager effectively proved, but I do have one task for you."

"What is that, sir?"

"Besides not tending to all of his duties, our last manager demonstrated a… gross dishonesty about his record-keeping. It seems we have a bit of a deficit on our hands. We need you to reduce the staff there… by two or three, depending on the salaries involved. I've already flagged one prime candidate for you. It seems there's a relatively new addition to the staff that has already acquired some unpleasant entries in his file, including an altercation with a Starfleet officer," the minister's eyebrows rise. "Let's see… ah yes, Mark Flemming."

"Oh no," Kira mutters under breath and sighs, briefly closing her eyes in response to this poorly timed assignment.

"Can you handle this, colonel? With your rank I would assume personnel management is nothing to give you pause. I can send you files on everyone on the team with some additional recommendations as well."

"Sir? Does this deficit absolutely _have_ to be corrected through personnel cuts?"

"With the war you mentioned affecting the region, material prices have only increased of late. I really don't see how we can remedy this matter any other way."

"I understand, sir."

"I will send you the necessary files, including confirmation that your superiors have approved this request. Good day, colonel."

"Good day, minister."

The transmission ends and Kira leans on the desk with both hands. She takes in a deep breath and puffs her cheeks as she lets her breath out slowly, letting her head sag like a deflating balloon.

"I trade her privacy for chocolate, make her think Mark's hurt, now I have to fire him. She's going to want to _kill _me," Kira says to herself as she falls into her desk chair and sulks.

With guilt welling up inside, she can only think of one thing. She eyes the barely-touched box of Rigelian chocolate on her desk and begins to tear into it.

* * *

After a walk together to put Ezri at ease after her infirmary scare, she returns to Ops and Mark returns to the shop to work on sandblasting more panels.

"So, is your lady Ezri all back together now?" Bill asks as Mark enters the shop.

"She's fine. I guess Colonel Kira made a quick decision to throw my name out as the victim of an accident to get her to a little surprise party."

"She spit that bit out earlier, before I kicked you two out."

"That's right. Anyway… it seems she's more invested in our relationship than she realized," Mark smiles.

"Whoa, now don't let that go and swell your ego too much. You don't want to scare her off like you almost did when you started."

"I know… but it feels great," Mark's smile only widens.

"I'm happy for you, son."

"I need to do something for her birthday," Mark pauses his work and squints slightly as he thinks. "Maybe I'll have her over for a _real_ dinner, no replicator."

"Don't make me hafta come to your quarters to repair fire damage, son."

"No... I won't subject her to _my_ sad excuse for cooking. I'm thinking of getting something special from Quark's. I hear he can put some nice spreads together."

"For a couple month's pay maybe. You're looking at a good bit o' latinum."

"She's worth it, Bill," Mark says. "Besides, I can make it up easy with all this extra work we've got piling up."

* * *

Odo reaches Kira's quarters after work, anxious to see Nerys then relax in his natural state to regenerate. When he opens the door, he finds Kira stuffing a piece of Rigelian chocolate in her mouth and a small pile of shiny wrappers littering the desk in front of her.

"Odo!" Kira says with her mouth full. "I am so glad you're back! I have to talk to you."

"What's wrong, Nerys?" Odo asks as he sees the relief in her eyes that he's there.

"Ezri's going to _hate_ me," Kira still chews as she speaks. "I'm a horrible friend!"

"Of course you're not. Why don't you tell me what's going on?"

Odo watches as Kira nervously unwraps another piece of chocolate.

"Nerys, I thought said the point of these was to savor them? You've almost consumed the entire box."

Kira stuffs the next piece in her mouth, "I know… I just couldn't help myself."

Odo slides the box away with just a fraction of its contents untouched. He closes the lid and sets it on a shelf. Kira's left cheek is puffed out slightly with her most recent bite and she follows the box longingly with her eyes. Odo makes a mental note of how much Kira enjoys this particular confection.

"Tell me what happened, Nerys. Let's see if I can help."

Kira swallows her last bite of chocolate and lets out a heavy sigh. She proceeds to tell Odo about how she came to have the rare chocolate in the first place, how bad she felt when a panicked Ezri burst into the infirmary, and how she has just been handed the task of firing Ezri's lover.

Odo sits and listens faithfully with his hands in front of him, tapping his fingertips together, much like he would if he were listening to witness statements in security. He can tell that Kira is upset about recent events, but she is most bothered by the task that has been recently handed to her.

"What do I do, Odo?" she pleads. "I can't fire Mark, but I can't _not_ fire him either. The Minister already has the platter, and he expects me to put Marks' head on it, along with one or two more."

Odo blinks and raises an eyebrow at the expression.

"Did the minister give you a deadline for enacting a plan to correct the deficit?"

"By the end of the week according to the documents he sent, but he seems pretty set on the 'plan' being a reduction in staff."

"Well, at least we have some time. I really need to revert for a while. I'll think about it and we can talk about our options later."

Kira nods, then turns her eyes to the shelf with the box of chocolate.

"Ah, ah," Odo chides her. "You know you'll hate yourself if you eat any more of those tonight. Why don't you read more of that book you've been telling me about?"

Kira sighs, then walks over and gives Odo a tight hug.

"You're right. I'll talk to you soon. I love you, Odo."

"I love you too, Nerys. We'll come up with something."

* * *

Ezri's eyes roll back in her head and she groans.

"That was… _amazing_!"

"Wasn't it though?" Mark smiles.

Ezri puts her hands on her stomach and blows out a deep breath.

"I am absolutely stuffed," she says.

"Me too, I didn't want to stop."

"And you got this from Quark? I know he's done some good catering, but this tells me he's been holding back."

"I guess it depends on how much latinum you throw at him."

"Mark?" Ezri suddenly looks concerned. "I don't know how much you make, but… this had to be a significant expense. You shouldn't…"

"Hey, that's my call, and you're totally worth it. You'd freak out if I tried to give you a ring, so instead I gave you… hmm, what did he say it was?"

"Whatever it was, what you gave me was a bellyache!"

"Hey, I didn't force feed you… you can't blame me on that one."

Mark smiles at Ezri, enjoying how natural their time together has become. It is a far cry from the nervous glances and false pretenses from a few weeks ago.

"I don't know what you're thinking over there," Ezri says, "but if it involves any physical activity, you really should have stopped me after my second helping."

"I'm just enjoying your smile. Thank you for sharing part of your birthday with me Ezri. I lo…"

Ezri blinks and cocks her head, "Why did you stop just then? Is something wrong?"

"Not at all. You know that I love you. I didn't want to leave you in the awkward situation of having to respond to those words like that. I know you consider us to be in a relationship now, and I'm thrilled that you're showing more… attachment, but I don't want to hear a hollow echo."

Ezri's wide smile reappears after Mark's astute observation and thoughtful consideration.

"Thank you, Mark. Thank you for not trying to force my feelings, and thank you for your patience. I thoroughly enjoy your company, and I'll get there someday."

"I know you will, and that makes me a very happy man. You were worth this for your birthday," Mark gestures to the table, "and you're _absolutely_ worth the wait."

Mark and Ezri share a moment, simply staring into each other's eyes and smiling. After a long sigh from Ezri, Mark breaks the silence.

"OK, beautiful. How about I walk you to your quarters. I can take care of this later."

Ezri shakes her head slowly, pushing her upper lip up slightly, but maintaining her smile.

"I'll help," she says. "And I'd like to stay tonight."

"That's great, but two nights in a row is against your ground rules, and I thought you weren't feeling up to…"

"We're _done _with those stupid rules. And you know… we don't have to _sleep_ together every time we sleep together you know."

Mark beams as they both stand to clear the table. After they've finished, they quietly retire for the evening in each other's arms.


	11. Dodging the Axe

**Dodging the Axe**

Ever since Odo and Kira began their romantic relationship, they have maintained their own quarters. More and more however, they treat them both equally as "home." Kira will often read in a chair in the corner of Odo's quarters as he continues his study of shapeshifting. Occasionally he will shift into something to give her a chuckle or to symbolize his affection, prompting a blown kiss. In Kira's quarters, Odo will generally remain humanoid and they will sit together and talk, or otherwise act as a "solid" romantic couple. Odo's bucket rests in Kira's bedroom for the times he stays there long enough to need it.

The previous evening, Kira had been very upset about manipulating her friend, unintentionally traumatizing her friend, and being handed an assignment that would involve ending the employment of her friend's lover. Kira is convinced that, at best, Ezri will be very unhappy with her for quite some time. Given her mood, Odo chose to stay close to his love for support.

When he assumes his humanoid shape around 0500, Odo finds himself alone in the bedroom. He peers out into the living room and spies Kira, seated sideways on the couch with her knees pulled against her chest, staring into the stars.

"Nerys, are you alright?" Odo peeks back at Kira's untouched bed, then steps out into the living room. "Did you even come to bed last night?"

Kira shakes her head, "I dozed for a little out here on the couch, but I haven't slept much."

"I'm sorry we didn't come up with any ideas to save Mark's job last night, but we still have time."

"I don't know what to do, Odo," Kira sighs as she turns her head from the window. "I've been thinking about it a lot, but every idea I come up with sounds absurd."

Odo scoffs, "I'm sure you're just being hard on yourself. Let me hear one of your ideas."

"OK," Kira's face lights up somewhat and she thrusts her hands towards him, fingers spread. "I actually still own some land in Dahkur Province on Bajor. I could give it to Ezri and she and Mark could build a nice little farmhouse together and raise crops and have seven children."

"Seven?" Odo blinks.

"Yes, seven. Do you want to know their names?"

Odo shakes his head.

"Anyway, they'd call me Aunt Neery and they'd all be sooo adorable. They'd be anxious to see what exciting new things Uncle Odo would change into for them. They'd have wonderful laughs and beautiful smiles."

Kira's eyes glaze over as she fights a yawn to finish her vision. "They'd all be so happy. Ezri and Mark will say losing this dull maintenance job was the best thing that ever happened in their lives."

"I see," Odo says as he nods hesitantly. "You've been thinking about this a great deal… but perhaps we should continue searching for options that involve Mark _keeping_ his current assignment. We haven't exactly exhausted all of our resources."

Odo notes evidence of at least one exhausted resource on the nearby table. The box of Rigelian chocolates lies there, completely empty. Kira turns back to the window and sighs.

"Perhaps we can discuss the matter with Captain Sisko," Odo says. "He's in command of this station. Surely he has some influence over the resources assigned to it."

Kira turns back from the window and manages a weak smile in response to Odo's persistence and hopeful attitude. "Thank you, Odo. That's a good idea."

"And… perhaps when this is behind us," Odo points to the empty box, "I can find more of those for you… _if _you promise not to consume them all in one evening."

Kira's smile brightens, but her eyes roll with a tinge of guilt. "I'd like that, but not any time soon. I think I've spoiled my taste for them for now." She puts a hand on her stomach and blushes.

"It's early yet," Odo says. "You should get some rest. We can talk to Sisko later this morning—together. I'll get a head start on my daily reports so I can pull myself away when you need me."

"Thanks, Odo," Kira stands groggily and gives him a tight hug. "If we find a way to keep Mark from losing his job, and Ezri from hating me forever, maybe they'll still have children that will call me Aunt Neery?"

"I'm sure that's still a possibility, though seven may be asking a lot."

"It has to be seven," Kira starts to fade. "I thought of some really good names."

"I'm sure you did, Nerys. Now try and get some sleep."

.

* * *

Mark's mood is pleasant as he nears the maintenance shop. He smiles and blinks contentedly as he recalls his quiet and romantic evening with Ezri after her birthday dinner. They had lain together peacefully—a contrast to their covert intimate affairs.

Peace… that word sums up his frame of mind perfectly.

As Mark rounds the corner into the shop, his peaceful frame of mind takes a crushing blow. One of the work tables is covered in small arms in various stages of disassembly and destruction. Seeing a phaser is one thing, but several that have been damaged in the course of war trigger the sights, smells, and sounds of combat on Minos Korva. He wasn't a soldier for long, but the Border Wars didn't take long to leave a lasting impression.

Mark steers clear of the table, and calls out to Bill without taking his eyes off of the damaged weapons.

"Hey, Bill!?" Mark yells. "What's going on!?"

"Jesus Criminy, son! I'm right here! I'm old, but I can hear just fine!" Bill exclaims.

Bill had been only an arm's length away on a work stool, but Mark had been so mesmerized that he hadn't seen him. With Bill's loud and grumpy response, Mark jumps and nearly tumbles. Bill can see Mark's unsettlement as he points to the table.

"Why are _those_ here?" Mark asks, his eyes wide and his brow wrinkled.

"Well, you were itchin' for more work, and Benjamin had more to send our way. Is that a problem, son?"

Mark closes his eyes briefly and clenches his jaw, pushing the memories of war from his mind, "I… I can handle it."

"Handle wha…? Aww, tribble-shit!" Bill smacks the table with the flat of his fist. "I'm sorry, son… I guess I _am_ goin' a bit senile. It totally escaped me that you'd fought the cardies for a spell. I can tell Sisko…"

"I can handle it, Bill," Mark says firmly.

"You sure? 'Cause I don't want to ever see you walk up to a table full of old weapons, flip out, and slip into some cardie flashback, forcin' me to duck for cover."

"That'll never happen," Mark tilts his head forward and shakes his head slightly.

"Good! I don't know what you'd do if you phased this ol' goat by accident someday. You'd be all tears at first, I know, but then you'd prolly go all soft by spendin' too much time with that lady o' yours. Next thing you know, you'd forget the difference between a window scrubber and a plumbin' snake."

"If things keep going well between me and Ezri… I won't care," Mark grins.

"About losin' the glorious knowledge I've bestowed upon you? Or about me?"

"Either."

Bill scoffs, "Fine! Well… you won't have to worry about that happenin' anyways. None of them things will ever come to us 'live' anyhow. They'll all have their power cells and emitters pulled."

"Then what was all that drama about?"

"I just wanted to see if you cared," Bill smirks. "You sure know how to hurt a man's feelin's. I'd better warn Ezri 'bout how cold you can be."

"Whatever, Bill," Mark rolls his eyes. "But seriously… what _are_ we doing with these?"

"We're gonna repair what we can, and scrap what we can't. They're safe to tinker with, like I said. We'll do the 'simple' stuff, then hand 'em over to Starfleet to fit 'em with cells and emitters to put 'em back in service. Since you didn't see me sittin' right here, you probably didn't see our new toy neither."

Bill points to a large Federation replicator, its bright color and clean surfaces are a stark contrast to the general grime of the shop. Mark can't believe he hadn't seen the shiny machine as soon as he walked in, but then again, he hadn't seen Bill right under his nose. He had only seen the table of broken and charred weapons.

"Whoa," Mark says in awe.

"She's a beaut, ain't she? You can't make fed phaser parts with a cardie replicator, not with the patterns encrypted the way they are. You can't replicate a complete weapon outside of a Federation weapons facility anyhow, which is where we come in. Refittin' these near the front lines will save them a ton of time. And as of right now, it's set for voice authorization for just the two of us… and any actual member of Starfleet of course."

"That has to be the fanciest replicator on the station, and they put it in here? In this dump?"

"Watch it now, son. This 'dump' is practically my home."

"Pfft, if you had a bunk in the corner or were the only one who worked in here I'd be worried about offending you, but there's near twenty of us that foul this place up on daily basis."

"And all the rest of 'em disgrace this place, son. At least I'm trying to teach _you_ to leave it cleaner than you find it."

"Speaking of which…" Mark peaks around the corner of the "L" shaped shop towards his locker. No new signs have appeared to replace the ones he'd taken down the day before that congratulated or mocked his relationship with Ezri.

Bill sighs. "There were actually a handful this morning, son. I knew you didn't care for 'em so I took 'em down when I got in."

"Anything I should know about?"

"Nope. Pretty much the same garbage as yesterday. Though… I did see a private comm channel for Larna on there."

"Who?"

"Heh, I guess she left a more lastin' impression on me than you, son. She was that young lady from when we were fixin' pump regulators in that hellish heat. If you don't remember how she prettied herself up to try and catch your eye… then maybe I'll just hold on to that note myself if it's all the same to you."

Mark can only shake his head and grin at this crazy old man.

"So…" Mark scratches his head. "With all this work from the Federation, do we work for them now? I thought our wages came from Bajor?"

"Funny you should mention that, son. There's been some rumors…"

* * *

Ezri starts her day in Ops in an excellent mood. She dwells so heavily on the wonderful ending to her birthday that it is some time before she notices Kira's absence. That alone is nothing out of the ordinary, but she doesn't recall seeing Kira at the replimat getting her usual cup of raktajino either. She knew Kira felt badly for the scare she'd given her at the surprise party in the infirmary the day before, but Ezri had been very clear that she had forgiven her. Surely Kira wasn't avoiding her. Ezri starts to wonder about her friend's well-being.

"Hey, Miles?" Ezri calls over to O'Brien. "Have you seen Kira this morning?"

Miles looks up from his station, glances around Ops with indifference, and shakes his head. "Nope."

* * *

Kira and Odo walk through a corridor towards a collection of meeting rooms. Being privy to the captain's schedule, they plan on cornering him after a meeting with a handful of Klingon captains. Dominion raids on shipping have been taking their toll on the war effort, and Sisko believes a number of Birds of Prey are just the thing they need to make the Dominion reconsider their tactic. Luckily for Sisko, General Martok agrees and has ordered some of his ships to assist with the plan.

"Odo, I don't know if this is such a good idea," Kira worries. "The captain will think I'm trying to shirk my responsibility… or that I'm being selfish."

"Remember the angle, Nerys, we're here to help his old friend Dax."

"His old friend that doesn't even know what's going on. I got my morning raktajino from the docking lounge in upper pylon three, and I haven't been to Ops all morning."

"That's a bit out of the way, isn't it? Why not just use the replicator in your quarters?"

"That'd be the first place she would look. I just don't know how to tell her."

"I'm sure Ezri would understand; this wasn't your decision."

"Oh, sure. 'That's OK, Kira. I just finally realized how _extremely _happy I am with this man, and you're going take his job away, sending him who knows where in the quadrant… no hard feelings at all!'" Kira mimes Ezri strangling her. "She's going to _hate_ me. You can count on it."

Odo rolls his eyes and nods. "Alright, calm down. That's why we're here. Even if Sisko doesn't have an idea, maybe he can give us something we can work with."

Kira puts a hand on his shoulder. "Right. Stay positive. Thanks, Odo."

* * *

"What kind of rumors, Bill?" Marks asks as they work on tidying up the maintenance shop.

"Someone said our boss ain't our boss anymore."

"Our boss? I didn't know we had one. When I started, they told me to report to you, and I've just been doing whatever you tell me ever since."

Bill laughs, "Well, son, we did, and I reckon I spoke with the man only a handful of times in over six years. He usually just sent short, impersonal messages."

Bill points to the shop's computer console. "You shoulda seen the sorry one-liner I got when I hit my five years on this station. Doesn't sound like much, but the cardie occupation ain't been over much longer'n that."

"What did you do before working here?"

"Starbase maintenance, of course… someplace or another. The feds ran a tight ship, but this feller… didn't even bother to know my name, so I returned the favor."

"Surely you would've picked up on his name, even if his messages were short."

"Not if they're only signed with 'management' you don't."

"So if he wasn't involved much, what's the big deal?"

"Son, you don't get far in management if you don't use everythin' as an excuse to put that 'cost reduction' feather in your cap. I can betcha the next person we call 'boss' will be lettin' people go."

"But, there's so much to do around here. Surely they wouldn't cut back?"

"'Do more with less', son. That's the slogan in times like these. Sure, they'll have work pile up, and eventually the clients'll complain enough to add people again, but by then they've got themselves a promotion."

"So what happened with the last guy?"

"Rumor is he skipped the promotion and just skimmed latinum from the contracts. Even more reason to worry about budgets."

Mark sighs deeply while rubbing a hand down his face. He can't help but think about the large sum he dropped on the fancy meal for Ezri's birthday.

"Don't worry _that_ much, son," Bill says. "I'll vouch for you over most o' these other sots."

* * *

"I don't care what you think!" Sisko yells. "Martok gave the order and you're going to follow it! Now get to your ships, and be at the rendezvous point at 1400!"

Odo and Kira both blink with widened eyes as Sisko's voice booms into the hallway and a disgruntled Klingon makes an early exit from the conference room. Four more unhappy Klingons follow before the pair can see Sisko leaning on the end of the conference table.

"Now I _know_ this is a bad idea," Kira says.

Sisko tilts his head slightly towards the door and looks at the pair out of the corners of his eyes. "What is it, constable?"

"Sir, I was hoping…" Kira begins.

"Captain," Odo's voice resonates over Kira's, "I know this is not a good time, but…"

"You're right, this is _not_ a good time," Sisko makes no effort to shroud his irritation.

Sisko closes his eyes and sighs heavily. "I'm sorry, this war has got a lot of people on edge. And if you thought Klingons were hostile in peacetime…" He looks over to see Odo's blank expression and Kira nervously rubbing her hands together. Sisko takes a seat and lets out another sigh. "You look like you've found some trouble, colonel. What's going on?"

"Well, sir," Kira starts, "it's a bit complicated."

"Why am I not surprised?"

.

* * *

Ezri still hasn't seen any sign of Kira in Ops. On top of that, Sisko's meetings should have been over a while ago and she hasn't seen _him_ either.

"It's been too quiet up here chief, am I missing out on something?"

"I don't know, but since you keep asking, I'm missing out on the ability to concentrate."

Ezri huffs at O'Brien, "Fine, I'll act like someone who cares about her fellow officers and go look for them myself."

"Hey, I care, I'm just not as paranoid as you are. And… wherever you go… try not to break anything. I'm busy enough as it is."

Ezri wrinkles her nose at the chief as she steps on the turbolift.

* * *

Ezri wanders through the Promenade, hoping to find some sign of Sisko, Kira, or Mark. As she scans faces, she can't help but wonder why Kira is suddenly impossible to find. She could always raise Kira on her combadge, but all Ezri has at the moment is curiosity and, like the chief said, a pinch of paranoia. Sisko is often busy, so his absence doesn't pique her curiosity as much as Kira's. And Mark, well… she simply wouldn't mind a chance encounter with him anytime. Ezri glows recalling their last evening together.

Ezri's brief daydream is interrupted as she notices Odo making a quick turn to avoid her path, heading down a corridor. "Odo!"

Though Ezri is positive that Odo had heard her call, his pace never hesitates and he disappears around a corner.

_Now this is getting weird._

Ezri furrows her brow and wears a crooked frown as she gets more frustrated. She turns towards the replimat to resume her course prior to spotting Odo. If nothing else, maybe she can get a raktajino and sit at the replimat to see if any of them stumble upon her first.

That's when she sees them. Mark and Kira must have been seated at a table previously, because only now that they are standing can she pick them out of the crowd. She smiles as she's found two people at once that she is happy to see and starts walking quickly to the replimat.

Suddenly, Ezri freezes, cocks her head to the side, and blinks. Something is happening before her eyes that she doesn't quite understand. Mark and Kira have just embraced each other. She can only see Kira's face, and it has a huge smile plastered all over it. Ezri is simply… stunned.

The two separate and Ezri can see beaming smiles and happy words being exchanged, but she can't make out anything they are saying. She sees Kira laugh, and then they embrace again!

While clamped tightly to Mark, Kira's head turns slightly and she spots Ezri. The smile is immediately replaced by guilt, which further perplexes Ezri. She starts to feel an odd churning in her gut and the skin of her face begins to feel warm. The embrace, combined with the look of guilt, implies something that doesn't even make sense, but since when are emotional reactions rational? Though Ezri's face is blank with confusion, she finds that her hands at her side have balled tightly.

Kira steps back from Mark, turning him with one hand while pointing to Ezri with the other. The sheepish look remains on Kira's face as Mark's eyes search the Promenade. He scans the general direction of Kira's point before finally identifying Ezri. When his eyes meet hers, Mark's face lights up with the biggest smile she's ever seen him wear. He immediately pulls away from Kira and walks towards Ezri at a brisk pace, nudging a couple of people aside along the way. Seeing his reaction at spotting her, Ezri can't help but mirror his expression. She even feels her eyes begin to moisten as he approaches.

When he reaches her, Mark lifts Ezri in a bear hug and spins around with her. Ezri squeezes back and closes her eyes.

"I'm so happy to see you, beautiful!" Mark gushes. "I've got great news!"

As Mark sets Ezri down, she sees Kira walking to meet them, her expression now full of relief.

"What's going on?" Ezri inquires. "I feel like I've been in the dark all day."

"That's my fault," Kira says as she reaches the two. "I didn't know how to tell you, and until just recently, the only news I had was very bad."

"I came really close to being out of a job, that's what was going on," Mark says, his brown eyes wide open as if he'd just dodged a bullet. "I heard rumors just this morning. Kira confirmed them, but…"

"It was going to be _my_ job to let him and some others go, can you believe that?" Kira says. "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you today, Ezri, but I just couldn't face you until I'd tried everything to avoid it."

"I'm still lost," Ezri looks to Kira. "Why would _you_ have been firing Mark?"

"My boss was dirty," Mark says. "He stole a load of latinum and left when his superiors got wise to it. Kira was handed the job of cutting the crew, and my name was on the top of the list of people to go."

"Well, you _were_ in a fight with a Starfleet officer," Kira tilts her head and eyes Mark.

"Yeah, well, that Starfleet officer broke my arm."

Ezri closes her eyes and shakes her head, "OK, skip to the part where all of this is _good_ news."

Kira smiles, "I spoke with the captain, and it turns out he had already been sending some extra Federation work to Mark's team related to the war."

"Starship panels, small arms… and I hear more things are coming," Mark interjects.

"Well," Kira continues, "when I told the captain I was tasked with reducing their staff, he immediately got in touch with Starfleet and formalized the extra work with a service contract."

"Not only am I not fired… I'm getting a raise!" Mark smiles.

"That's great!" Ezri smiles with him.

Ezri glances at Kira. "So if the news is so good, why did you look so guilty a minute ago?"

Kira ducks her head slightly, "The Rigelian chocolate, the infirmary scare… I knew if I was responsible for Mark losing his job, you'd never speak to me again!"

Ezri's eyes search the ceiling as she bites her lip. "I don't know if I'd say… _never_ exactly."

"I knew it! And I completely devoured that box, by the way."

"You didn't! Do you realize how hard it was to…?"

"Don't remind me, I feel bad enough already."

* * *

"A raise, huh?" Ezri smiles at Mark after Kira has left the two alone in the Promenade.

"Yep," Mark replies. "That feels pretty good."

"Well, I hope you don't think I expect you to do feed me like you did for my birthday all the time because of it."

"Oh, of course I don't think that. But I plan on doing it once a year anyway."

"What makes you think I'll keep you around long enough to make that a tradition?" Ezri grins slyly.

"Call it a hunch," Mark winks.

"Hey, you two," Kira says as she walks briskly back to the pair.

She puts a hand on a shoulder of each of them. "I almost forgot. If you ever need ideas for names, I've thought of some _great_ ones for you."

"Names?" Ezri's head slides back as she squints.

"Of course! For your children."

Mark laughs out loud as Ezri stares at Kira in shock. "I'd say some others have the same hunch, beautiful."


	12. Wrong Ideas

**Wrong Ideas**

"You thought what?!" Kira laughs, almost choking on a sip of raktajino.

"Hilarious, isn't it?" Ezri laughs half-heartedly. "Though, I didn't really _think_ it; I just… reacted."

"I never took you for the jealous type," Kira says after wiping her chin with a napkin.

Ezri cocks her head and blinks. "I'm honestly not sure if that came from one of my previous hosts, or if that was all me."

Kira shakes her head and smiles in disbelief.

"Oh come on," Ezri says. "How would you react if you saw me all over Odo one day?"

"I know how _Odo_ feels, so I wouldn't be worried about his intentions, though I might wonder about…" Kira pauses. "OK, I see what you mean, but you know how I feel about Odo and you know that you're my friend. Why would you even suspect that I'd make a move on Mark?"

"Well, you did threaten to spread a rumor just to get chocolate."

"You're never going to let that go, are you," Kira shakes her head. "You're just trying to change the subject. You seriously felt threatened?"

One of Ezri's eyes squints and her nose wrinkles as she searches the ceiling for an answer. "I can't explain it. It wasn't until Mark smiled at me that I knew I was being silly."

"Ah," Kira points. "It wasn't _my_ behavior that you reacted to, it was his. You don't trust him?"

"I do, completely, I…" Ezri purses her lips. "Maybe I just haven't known him long enough for my trust to take hold."

Kira blinks. "Ezri, you either trust him or you don't."

"I do." Ezri nods and smiles.

* * *

Mark strolls into the maintenance shop, whistling a tune. The tune stops, but his lips freeze in a pucker as he surveys the shop.

"Bill?" Mark calls out after the initial shock wears off. "You in here, Bill?"

A clanging sound echoes from behind a mountain of equipment. "Over here, son."

Mark walks to the source of Bill's voice, noticing that everything that used to be along the walls of the shop make up the mountain in the room. "What the hell's going on?"

"I heard you whistlin' as you came in. You were reactin' to the 'good news' part of the Federation contract that saved your job. Allow me to introduce you to the 'bad news'."

"I don't get it," Mark scratches his head.

"Well, up until yesterday, we were a purely Bajoran-run crew on a Bajoran-owned station. The fed contract means we've got some changes to make."

"Like what?"

Bill points to a PADD on a worktable. "Codes, regulations, and standards for your reading pleasure."

"How bad is it?"

"Bad?" Bill laughs. "This'll be the best thing to happen to this shop since I started. Sure, it'll be a pain gettin' her all fixed up, but you'll be glad once it's done. I've worked on fed stations before, son, and I'll be glad to get back to that kind of operation."

"Who moved all this stuff?" Mark marvels at the tight collection of tools and machinery.

"I made a deal with the rest of the boys and girls on the crew," Bill grins. "I told 'em if they moved everythin' here and cleaned the walls, we'd get things up to code and put 'em back."

"That sounds like a shitty deal, Bill."

Bill winks. "Depends on what's important to you, son. The layout of the shop's been a pain in my ass since day one. Now I can put things where I want and blame the regs."

Mark glances at the PADD with a questioning look.

"I know what you're thinkin', but don't believe for one second any of the others'll read those if they don't have to. If they ever do, it'll be long after they're used to things where I put 'em."

"Where _we_ put them, right?"

"Yeah, I reckon I'll give you some say in it," Bill grins.

Mark can't stop staring at the huge pile of equipment.

"Oh!" Bill says as he pulls something out of a pocket. "Somethin' you should be aware of…"

Bill hands Mark a folded, but wrinkled piece of paper.

"It's a note," Bill says. "From that Larna gal again. She musta slid it in your locker and it musta slid out when the boys moved 'em. Almost steamed my glasses to read it."

"You read it?" Mark is surprised.

"Of course, son," Bill laughs. "You're taken, remember? I gotta get my thrills where I can."

Mark shakes his head and reads the note. Occasional blinks turn to raised eyebrows.

"Did you get to the steamy part yet?"

"Shh," Mark continues to read. Finally, his jaw drops and his cheeks flush.

"Now you did," Bill chuckles.

"I, uh…" Mark doesn't know what to say. "I need to talk to this woman. I need to let her know she's wasting her time."

"You best be careful, son," Bill shakes a wrench at Mark. "This sounds like one o' them gals that might not take 'no' for an answer."

"I'll handle it."

Bill chuckles, "I guess we'll see."

* * *

The next day, Colonel Kira Nerys is in the maintenance shop as Mark walks in for his shift. Most of the rest of the maintenance staff are there as well. Mark finds Bill among the crowd and heads over.

"What's going on, Bill?" Mark whispers.

Before Bill can answer, Kira notices Mark's arrival.

"Hello, Mark," she says with a smile. "OK, I think that's everyone that's going to show. Let's get started."

Someone Mark doesn't know nudges him. "Dating an officer isn't enough, huh? Now you're the teacher's pet too?" they whisper.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mark whispers over his shoulder. "Mind your own business."

Kira clears her throat. "Alright, as many of you know, your former supervisor has moved on."

"Took the money and run, more like it," a woman on the team says aloud.

Kira nods. "There is an ongoing investigation into their practices and whereabouts. I'm Colonel Kira, second in command of the station, and I'm standing in until Bajor's Ministry of Commerce can appoint a permanent replacement."

There are a few grumbles around the shop.

"Is there a problem?" Kira asks.

No one answers at first, but as Kira is about to resume speaking, someone gives an answer that prompts laughter from around the room. "It's just… you're a lot prettier than our last boss, ma'am. Some of us were hoping we could keep you."

Kira smiles and shakes her head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you."

She waits for the chuckles to subside and motions around the shop. "It seems you've already made a good start on changes to your workspace. Hopefully this transition doesn't interfere with your daily responsibilities too much, but I'll consider the circumstances if I receive any complaints."

"You're nicer too," a new voice says, prompting more laughter.

"Don't get too excited," Kira grins. "The changes won't be limited to the shop. I'm providing everyone with copies of new regulations and guidelines that will affect you personally. The more critical changes will be posted by the entrance of the shop as well so there'll be no excuses for not implementing them."

Grumbles pass through the room.

"You still want to keep me?" Kira says with a grin.

"No, but you're still pretty," someone jokes.

"I'm seeing someone," Kira points to the source. "He's a changeling, so don't get your hopes up, and don't get any ideas."

Laughter fills the room.

"Alright, alright," Kira says. "I appreciate those of you from the off-shifts coming in. I've got just a couple more things and I'll be out of your hair. The Federation contract will be adding some new tasks and increasing the workload."

More grumbles follow.

"There will be training opportunities and possible overtime in the near future to compensate. Not only did this contract save all existing positions, but it will expand the team as well. The postings should already be up around the station, so if you know of anyone that meets the requirements, send their information to the contact listed."

Quiet murmurings travel through the room.

"Lastly, and some of you may already be aware of this," Kira winks at Mark, "but since the new contract involves elevated skills, hence the training opportunities, there is a compensation increase forthcoming."

Cheers erupt in the room.

Kira makes a futile effort to talk over them. "Thank you all, and keep up the good work!"

Most of the crew file out of the room, though some stop to shake Kira's hand. One man even jokingly asks her for a kiss which she declines in good humor.

After the others leave, Kira approaches Mark and Bill. "Mark. I was thinking of asking Ezri if the two of you would like to join Odo and myself for dinner tonight. Since I'm here, I figured I'd make sure it sounded good to you first."

"Me, with three of the station's senior staff?" Mark stammers. "I might feel a little out of place."

"Nonsense," Kira smiles. "It'll be very informal, nothing special. I just think we should get to know the man that makes my good friend so happy."

"Then… if Ezri says yes, I'm in." Mark smiles.

Kira smiles and heads to the door. As she's leaving, a young Bajoran woman passes her going the other way. Kira says a polite "hello," but the woman simply stares ahead. Kira blinks and watches the woman walk further into the shop.

Mark is facing away from the door and the woman walks up behind him. She presses against his back and puts her hands over his eyes.

Before the woman says a word, Mark reacts. "Hey there, beautiful."

Kira's eyes pop wide open as she starts to feel panic for Ezri's sake.

"Guess again," the woman says.

Mark spins and backs away after hearing a voice that isn't Ezri's. "What in God's name...? Who are you?"

"You don't remember me?"

Bill turns from his work to see what's going on. "It's the lady that left you that sultry note, son. I thought you were going to address the issue."

"We worked late, Bill. I had to go straight home to clean up for dinner with Ezri. Miss, I'm sorry, but you need to direct your attention at another man."

"Does that mean it would be a bad idea for me to put in for work here?" Larna holds up a PADD with the posting.

"Absolutely," Mark says. "A horrible idea."

Larna smiles and does a subtle curtsy. "Sounds fun."

Kira, still by the door, groans to herself and leaves the shop.

* * *

Ezri, Mark, Odo, and Kira sit down for dinner in the upper balcony at Quark's.

"I was a little nervous when you picked Quark's," Mark says, "but it's nice and secluded up here."

Ezri gives him an eye. "What's that supposed to mean? You don't want to be seen with me?"

"Ezri, the last time we were in this place you dumped a beer on my head, then not ten minutes later you came back and yelled that we were going to go have sex."

Kira chuckles and blushes; Odo rolls his eyes.

"I did, and we did," Ezri says without relaxing her stare, "but that's not the point."

Mark flattens his hands in front of him and lowers them. "Now calm down. I know that's not the point."

"Then enlighten me, mister," Ezri huffs.

"Do you know how much flak I catch for dating you? It doesn't bother me, because I love you, but it's a lot. I don't need to compound the problem by rubbing shoulders with senior officers—no offense," Mark glances at Kira and Odo. "Just today, someone called me the 'supervisor's pet' because Kira said hello to me directly."

Ezri wrinkles her forehead and sighs. "I'm sorry, Mark. You've told me about that. I forgot."

"I'm sorry too," Kira says. "I didn't mean to draw attention to you."

"It's OK," Mark squeezes Ezri's shoulder and nods to Kira. "I can handle it, I just don't need to throw any extra fuel on the fire."

A waiter brings the meals they requested as they came in. Mark notices that the waiter sets nothing in front of Odo.

"Not hungry, Mr. Odo?" Mark asks.

"I don't eat," Odo replies. "Please, just call me Odo."

"OK, Odo," Mark smiles. "You're a very fascinating man."

"Oh?"

"What you do here, what you _can_ do. It's incredible. Maybe these two aren't amazed by it anymore but…"

"Trust me," Kira grins, "he still amazes me regularly."

"Nerys…" Odo is shocked.

"I'm just teasing," Kira smiles.

Ezri and Mark both blink, as Odo's reaction implies she wasn't.

"Mark…" Odo quickly changes the subject. "I would counter that you are equally fascinating."

Mark chuckles. "Now how in the world am _I_ fascinating?"

"The work you and your team do on the station," Odo says. "Everyone takes it for granted, and no one seems to know you exist—no offense."

"None taken."

"I find it all very fascinating," Odo nods.

"OK then," Mark raises his glass. "To four fascinating people."

Everyone joins the toast and smiles.

"Speaking of fascinating people, Mark," Kira says. "Who was that woman that grabbed you in the shop today?"

Both Ezri and Mark practically spit out their drinks.

"Grabbed you?!" Ezri scowls.

"It wasn't like that, beautiful," Mark says. "I was going to tell you about it later."

Ezri simply stares and Odo and Kira remain silent.

"Or… I can tell you about it now," Mark sighs. "There's a young Bajoran woman that's taken a liking to me. I've made it clear to her that I'm involved, but she doesn't hear it."

"I'm sorry," Kira laughs. "I shouldn't have said that the way I did. She snuck up behind Mark and covered his eyes to make him guess who she was."

"You saw that?" Mark asks.

"Mm-hmm," Kira nods. "I was surprised when he called her 'beautiful' like he calls you all the time, but he thought it was you. As soon as that girl opened her mouth, he jumped half-way across the shop. And he _did_ try and shut her down."

Ezri starts to recover from her shock. "Try?"

"She says she's going to put in for one of the maintenance jobs," Kira says. "Seems like she's got it bad."

"How bad?" Ezri asks.

Mark blushes and pulls out the note that had been left in his locker. "I was going to tell you about this later too."

Ezri skims the note.

Mark leans over. "Did you get to the…"

"Oh my god," Ezri's eyes open wide. "I'm going to have to kill her."

"Surely it's not _that_ bad," Kira scoffs.

Ezri thrusts the note in Kira's face, her finger pointing to the worst part.

"Whoa," Kira blinks. "That's worse than anything in Odo's romance novels."

"Nerys, please." Odo rolls his eyes.

"Sorry," Kira cringes. "But it is."

Kira swings Ezri's arm over so Odo can see the note.

Odo's eyes open wide as well. "Is that even… _possible_ for a solid?"

Ezri scowls at Odo, Kira laughs, and Mark closes his eyes and drops his head in embarrassment.

"That settles it," Ezri says. "She dies."

"Now hold on," Kira tries to recover from her laughing fit. "I haven't seen her information yet. It could be that she won't qualify and we won't have to consider the scenario of her working with Mark."

"You're not helping," Ezri closes her eyes as she tries to block the image in her mind. "Helping would be telling me that you won't let it happen even if she _does_ qualify."

"Are you saying you don't trust Mark to work with this woman?" Kira asks.

"Beautiful," Mark says. "I don't want her working with me any more than you do. But if I have to, you know I love you more than anything."

Ezri frowns. "It's not you I don't trust, it's the person that could write… this." Ezri crumples the note and drops it on the table.

Mark reaches for the note.

"Don't you even…" Ezri starts.

Mark takes the crumpled note and drops it in the candle holder in the center of the table. It immediately catches fire and slowly turns to ashes.

"Nevermind," Ezri leans over and hugs Mark.

* * *

"Ow, ow. OK, stop!" Ezri grunts in Mark's darkened bedroom later that night.

"I told you it wouldn't work," Mark sighs.

"I had to know. And don't you _dare_ tell anyone we tried."

"I won't," Mark chuckles. "Can we get some sleep now?"

"I may have satisfied my curiosity, but I'm not even _close_ to being done with you, mister."

* * *

Several days pass. Both Mark and Ezri all but forget about Larna and her note.

Mark strides into the shop, happy to finally be done with getting everything organized and up to Federation standards. There's been complaints among the team, but overall, everyone has been happy with the changes—especially the raise.

Bill must still be getting his morning coffee as Mark doesn't see him in the shop yet. Mark rounds the corner to his locker and stops in his tracks.

"Good morning," A woman smiles wide as she looks up from tying her work boots.

The woman before Mark is wearing the same style gray work-suit that's hanging in his own locker. She has a matching cap with her blonde ponytail pulled through the back. The patch over her left breast is embroidered with her name: Larna.

Mark sighs. "Son-of-a…"


	13. Lively Larna

**Lively Larna**

In shock, Mark can only stare at the woman seated on the bench in front of the shop lockers. Her pleasant smile may as well be the hungry grin of some holosuite nightmare.

As Bill meanders into the shop, Mark is the only one he can see from his vantage point at the door. "There you are, son. I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you."

"I'm looking at her, Bill." Mark turns to flash a pathetic expression at Bill.

"Oh," Bill says then speaks louder, "I meant that kindly, miss!"

"I took no offense," Larna smiles as she leaves the locker area and intentionally brushes against Mark's arm with her shoulder. "I'm ready to get started."

"Well, being your first day and all," Bill says, "allow me to introduce you to a floor scrubber."

"Sounds fun!" Larna blinks rapidly and smiles.

Mark narrows his eyes. Larna's expression is one of blissful ignorance, but he can sense the devious intelligence behind it. As Bill walks by Mark to grab a scrubber, Mark leans close.

"What the hell is she doing here, Bill?" Mark whispers.

"It's legit, son," Bill shrugs. "The notice is on the board, signed by our new supervisor."

Mark groans.

"While I break her in on the scrubber, you might want to share the news with you-know-who."

* * *

Mark nervously looks from side to side as soon as his head clears the turbolift platform in Ops. He feels fortunate when Kira, one of the two people he can see that knows him, spots him first. As she smiles and opens her mouth to speak, Mark puts a finger to his lips and points to Ezri. Kira nods and taps Ezri's shoulder, repeating the gesture for discretion.

Ezri trots over to the turbolift with a huge smile on her face. Mark motions for her to join him.

"Why all the shushing?" Ezri whispers.

"I'm technically not supposed to be up here," Mark whispers. "Promenade," he commands the turbolift.

"What's going on?" Ezri asks quietly.

The lift is already half-way below the platform, so Mark feels it's safe to break the news. "Larna started in the shop today."

"She what?!" Ezri screams.

Mark's eyes pop open in reaction to her outburst and he catches at least six other pairs in Ops doing the same before they completely pass below the platform.

Mark sighs. "I had no warning. She was just… there."

"I have to talk to Kira. She should have done something!" Ezri huffs.

"I don't think she could have. They appointed a new supervisor for the team a couple days back. I think Kira sat on her application as long as she could. Not many people put in for the job."

"Well, she should have buried it, or burned it… or something."

"Bill's with Larna now, getting her started on some basics. I wanted to let you know."

"Thanks," Ezri sighs. "I'm sorry I yelled. I know this isn't your fault."

"It's OK, beautiful," Mark smiles. "This'll be awkward for a bit, but I'm sure this woman will eventually figure out that I'll have nothing to do with her. Maybe after that… she'll quit," he shrugs. "If that doesn't work, I'll need to borrow a phaser," he jokes. "It didn't make me stop chasing _you_, but maybe it'll work on her."

Ezri laughs. "No, I'm sure we'll get through this. And you had that coming you know."

The turbolift reaches the Promenade.

"Here's my stop," Mark smiles. "I'll let you get back to work."

"Thanks for letting me know, Mark," Ezri smiles. "Dinner at my place?"

"Sounds great." Mark leans over and kisses Ezri then steps from the turbolift. "I love you."

Ezri pulls Mark back onto the turbolift and gives him a longer kiss. "I love you too."

Mark beams. "That's the first time you've said those words."

"Is it really?" Ezri grins. "I'm sure I've said it before."

Mark shakes his head. "Trust me, I've been waiting."

"Well I do love you," Ezri smiles. "And don't you forget it."

Mark steps off of the turbolift again and Ezri commands it back to Ops.

.

* * *

"How long have you known Mark?" Larna asks Bill as she stares intently at the floor scrubber's display.

"Long enough to know you're barkin' up the wrong tree, miss," Bill answers seriously.

Larna flips her ponytail and smiles whimsically. "I love trees."

Bill rolls his eyes. "Miss, I feel you're gonna cause some serious trouble 'round here."

"Me?" Larna says innocently. "I won't be any trouble at all."

"Mm-hmm," Bill grunts. "You know, when Mark was first fallin' for that gal o' his, I thought she was evil."

"That's harsh, Mr. Turpin."

"I only answer to Bill, miss," Bill says. "I was wrong about her, but I _don't_ think I'm wrong about you."

"I'm hurt, Bill," Larna pouts momentarily then smiles.

"You're a pretty little thing, I'll give you that, but you couldn't pry that boy from his Trill lady-friend with a tractor beam."

"We'll see."

* * *

Ezri deflects a few stares with one of her own as she steps off of the turbolift in Ops. She walks directly to Kira's post.

"Are you alright?" Kira asks.

"I'll be fine," Ezri says with a furrowed brow. "Maybe. Why didn't you tell me that woman got the job?"

"Seriously? She got it?" Kira scoffs. "I honestly didn't know."

"You could have prevented this you know. You owe me."

"I do," Kira nods as she recalls the Rigelian chocolate fiasco, "but there was nothing I could've done. I only assumed that role temporarily. They didn't exactly give me full access to personnel files. Bajor isn't too fond of blurring the lines between the militia and any of the other agencies. Once they appointed the full-time replacement, they shut me out of the little they'd given me access to pretty quickly. I had no idea who else put in or who got the jobs they posted."

"You could have had Odo break in and 'lose' her application."

"I owe you, but not enough to get into that kind of trouble with my own government."

Ezri pouts.

"How bad can it be?" Kira asks. "Have you even met this girl?"

"No, but don't you remember that note Mark shared at dinner a few nights ago?"

"Oh," Kira winces. "I forgot about that. But I still think you're over-reacting."

"We'll see." Ezri frowns and returns to her station.

* * *

Mark is in the maintenance shop, stripping small arms shipped in by Starfleet to be refurbished. He tears the weapons down and sorts the parts between two piles for scrap and salvage. He hasn't had any flashbacks of fighting Cardassians in his soldier days on Minos Korva, but that's only because his mind is preoccupied with a more immediate threat.

Larna walks into the shop with the floor scrubber—alone. Some of the long blonde hair she'd stuffed under her cap has worked its way loose and the exaggerated smile from the morning is no longer exaggerated.

"Where's Bill?" Mark asks.

"Some Starfleet engineer said she needed help moving equipment away from an access panel. He told me to head on back."

"How do you like the scrubber?" Mark grins, knowing how tedious tending the machine can be.

"It's slow," Larna tips her head to the side, twirls her ponytail around with her fingers, and looks him up and down, "but it gives me more time to think."

"I don't even wanna know."

Larna laughs, "Am I that transparent?"

"After the look you just gave me and that note a few days back… there's nothing subtle about you."

"Oh yeah…" Larna holds the tip of her tongue between her teeth and smiles. "What'd you think of that little gem?"

"Five points for shock value, but I chucked it."

"Aww," Larna pouts. "What'd your girlfriend think of it?"

"What makes you think I showed it to her?"

"You're an honest man, Mark" Larna lingers on the M in his name as she sets the scrubber down. "You don't seem like the type to keep secrets."

Mark scoffs. "She wasn't too happy about it."

Larna strolls over and slides up to the worktable, planting a big smile in front of Mark's face. "Did ya try it?"

"Why bother," Mark lies. "It's not even possible."

"So you think," she winks at him as she turns and leans against the table. "If you ever want me to prove it…"

"Would you just stop?" Mark says angrily as he sets the last pieces of a phaser in their respective piles. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

Larna does a poor job of suppressing her grin. After a thought, she blinks and makes a strange face. "That old man sure seems to think so. I think he stared at my ass half the time I was pushing that damn thing around."

Mark lets out a hearty laugh.

"You think that's funny?"

"Oh my. Yes… that's very funny." Mark wipes an eye. "He noticed you more than I did that first day we met, you know… back when the temperature regulators were busted."

"Really?" Larna's expression is one of mild disgust. "He's got to be in his eighties."

"I think he's in his seventies, but still a hell of a lot older than what… your twenties?"

"I'm actually a little older than your girlfriend," Larna blows a tuft of hair hanging from the front of her cap away from her eye then winks. "So I know I'm not too young for you."

"Depends on how you look at it. She's a joined Trill." Mark stops talking and shakes his head. "Look. It doesn't matter, Larna. I'm in a very happy relationship. I sympathize with where you're coming from, but you need to give it a rest."

"You're wrong if you think I'm going to give up that easily."

"You're no quitter, but I don't think you pick your battles very well."

Larna lets out a long sigh and looks around the shop. "That old man really took notice of me?"

"He sure did," Mark grins.

"Then I jumped into the middle of some messed-up love square, didn't I."

Mark squints. "Huh?"

"You love Ezri, I want you, and the geezer likes to ogle me."

"No… Ezri and I love each other, I want nothing to do with you, and you and Bill can do whatever you want—I won't judge. That's not any kind of 'geometric' relationship if you ask me."

Larna makes a mocking snarl. "Well at least I can look at this as much as I want now," she says as she grabs Mark's closest butt cheek.

"Hey!"

Larna giggles and runs off to the lockers. "You better not watch me change."

Mark rolls his eyes in frustration. "There's a curtain over there. Use it."

Larna unzips her gray work suit, flashes her bra, and sticks her tongue out before sliding the curtain across the locker area.

Mark hangs hid head and sighs. _This girl is going to drive me insane._

* * *

"Hey, beautiful," Mark says as soon as the door to Ezri's quarters slide open. He can tell from the smell that she's already picked something from the replicator that agrees with him.

Ezri gives Mark a tight hug and a kiss as soon as he clears the door. "Come on and sit down. I've got everything ready."

"Wow; looks great. What's the occasion?"

"Nothing, I just knew I wasn't going to be able to suffer through the small talk of deciding what we wanted and the polite banter of getting it ready together."

Mark notices Ezri's eager posture as she sits at the table. "Let me guess. You want to know…"

"Tell me _everything_," she jumps in. "Did she talk to you, look at you wrong, touch you?"

Mark sighs. "Ezri…"

"Well?"

"Yes."

Ezri shifts her eyes, confirming in her memory that she did, in fact, ask three questions. "To which?"

"All of them."

"Ooo," Ezri narrows her eyes and almost growls.

"Now, Ezri, we knew this was going to be weird. She was actually tamer than I figured she'd be."

"Where'd she touch you? Maybe she's just testing how much you'll resist. Maybe she's just warming up!"

"Would you listen to yourself for a minute?" Mark says. "If she keeps it up or crosses the line, I'll raise the issue and take care of it. I don't think one quick pat on the ass is enough to get her transferred to another shift or worse. If I complain too early, she'll just dial it back enough to stick around."

Ezri huffs. "That's… a good strategy. But we need to talk about this 'line'."

Mark takes a bite of baked chicken and shakes his head.

Ezri points and swings her finger back and forth with the movement of his head. "What's that mean?"

"This means… I don't even want to go there. It's a no-win situation."

"Oh? Would you like to clarify that, mister?"

"If I say what I think crosses the line, you'll get mad that I'd let it get that far. If I ask you to define the line _for_ me, you'll get mad that I apparently don't even _know_ what's too far."

Ezri sighs and grins. "Damn you and your logic."

"Can you just trust me? You know I love you, beautiful, and nothing this girl can do will change that."

Ezri considers Mark's words as she pushes rice around on her plate.

"Ezri," Mark smiles. "Do you remember when we first spoke in Quark's?"

"I do," Ezri smiles. "I thought you were going to _drown_ yourself with that beer."

Mark chuckles. "That too, but… after that, you told me I was attracted to some fancy idea I had about you, not the real you, and that if I got to know you I'd learn how I really felt. Maybe the same will be true of Larna. Maybe after a few days she'll learn that she's not interested in the real Mark Flemming."

"And what if she likes you more?"

"That'll be her problem. I won't give her the wrong idea."

Ezri squints at mark for a moment. "Deal. I'll trust you on this one." Her concerned expression fades and she smiles. "Now… tell me more about when you got to know the real me."

Mark slides into a wide smile. "As soon as I saw you that first day, outside your window, I was captivated. Bill wanted me to look at some boring wormhole, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from something infinitely more beautiful. That's why I call you that by the way," Mark winks. "And… when I saw those beautiful blue eyes for the first time… I knew I was in love. You may have hoped at first that getting to know you would make me change my mind, but I've fallen in love with you a little more with everything new I learn about you."

Ezri raises an eyebrow. Mark takes her expression to mean she thinks he's feeding her a line.

"I mean it," He says.

Ezri stands and moves around the table. She sits on his lap, squeezing between him and the table. "I know you do. Food later."

* * *

The next morning, Mark whistles a happy tune as he walks into the shop.

"You must've had a good evening," Larna smiles.

Mark rolls his eyes and sighs. "Well aren't you an early riser. And yes, I did."

"You know, you see the most _amazing_ things when you take one of these out for a walk." Larna points to the lockers where the environment suits are kept.

Mark's heart skips a beat. "You didn't."

"No," Larna laughs and looks Mark over slowly. "But I've been tempted."

Mark groans. "When are you gonna get it? I don't want anything to do with you."

"I get it," Larna frowns. "But a girl can dream."

"Keep your dreams to yourself." Mark makes a dismissive, sweeping gesture with his arm. "You make me uncomfortable. You're _not_ going to get what you want, but do you want me to _resent_ you?"

Larna huffs and stares at Mark. She furrows her brow and wrinkles her mouth in frustration.

"I'm sorry," Mark sighs, "but that's the road you're on right now."

"OK," Larna takes a deep breath. "Can I start over?"

"What?"

Larna holds out her hand. "Hello, I'm Dulan Larna, please call me Larna."

Mark closes his eyes and sighs.

"I'm serious," Larna nods to her extended hand.

Mark reluctantly takes her hand. "Mark Flemming. Nice to meet you."

Larna smiles. "That was nice. I'll try and be a good girl and just take what I can get."

"Thank you. Things will go a lot smoother if we're not fighting each other all the time."

"Sure they will," Larna smiles, "but I'm still gonna stare at your ass when you're not looking."

Mark groans.

Several days pass without a significant incident between Mark and Larna. The peace is helped by the fact that Bill spends the better part of most shifts getting Larna up to speed while Mark handles tasks in the shop. Some teasing exchanges still take place at the start and end of the day, and Larna still looks at Mark with a hungry eye, but the overall attitudes in the shop have become almost amicable.

* * *

An evening after dinner in Mark's quarters, he and Ezri lie in each other's arms after making love.

"I love you," Ezri says after kissing the shoulder she's resting her head upon.

Mark smiles. "I love hearing you say that, beautiful."

"I love feeling it," Ezri looks into his eyes and smiles. "And you know… I thought I'd hate having a pet name, but 'beautiful' works for me."

"Of course it does," Mark grins. "Your name is synonymous with beauty in my mind. I bet there's even a language somewhere in the galaxy out there where 'Ezri' literally _means_ beautiful." Mark points at the stars beyond the bedroom window.

Ezri giggles. "You definitely know how to make me feel beautiful."

The two hold each other close. Their breathing slowly synchronizes as they drift to sleep.


	14. Reflections Part One

**A/N:**

I'd like to remind you that this story is AU. Without giving anything away, I want to mention that you might have some déjà vu during this one. That's because I'm weaving my AU through of a portion of an actual episode, altering it slightly to allow for my AU version. Also, my first draft of this chapter became quite lengthy, over 6K words, so I'm splitting this one up. Please enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

**Reflections Part One**

"This thing?" Larna says while standing on a ladder in the Promenade.

"That's it," Mark says impatiently while steadying the ladder from below. "Just like the other ten you asked me about."

"Hey, I just want to pretend someone other than that old man has an interest in my ass, OK?" Larna says while looking down at Mark. "And I prefer imagining that someone is you."

Mark rolls his eyes.

The pair are replacing lights throughout the Promenade in preparation for the Bajoran celebration of Ha'mara. Someday the maintenance team may be tasked with refitting the fixtures with ones that can be changed remotely for various festive occasions, but that remodeling task is pretty low on the priority list on this Cardassian-built station.

Mark is stuck working with Larna today because Bill has an appointment with Doctor Bashir to perform several assessment tests on his heart and overall health. Mark wonders whose heart is more at risk at the moment: Bill's after his previous heart attack, or his own for having to suffer through Larna's aggressive flirtation.

"It's too bad the 'dress' code doesn't allow for an actual dress, am I right?" Larna wiggles her butt on the ladder and laughs.

"Hey, keep it steady up there," Mark grumbles.

"You're no fun at all," Larna Pouts.

"Good! I don't want to be any part of your 'fun'." Mark looks around, thankful they've attracted nothing more than a few curious glances from people passing by in the Promenade. "You'd been doing a lot better since that 'fresh start' line you fed me a few days ago. What happened?"

"I can't help myself around you, Mark Flemming," Larna smiles down the ladder. "You only thought I was doing better because I was stuck with that geezer every day. And I was _trying_ to do better… kind of. But to be around you this much in one day… I just can't deny that I want you."

"I'm sorry, but you need to find someone else… or some other way to distract yourself."

"Ooh," Larna puts a hand to her chin and grins. "Now _there's_ a thought. I wonder how much it would cost to get a holosuite program made of you."

"Larna…" Mark begins with a threatening tone but bites his tongue. He leans his forehead against a rung of the ladder. "You seem to be hell-bent on shaving a few years off of my life-expectancy."

Larna climbs down the ladder and playfully taps Mark's head with her boot. "You'd feel it was worth it if you'd _join_ me in a holosuite."

Mark maintains a hold on the ladder while stepping out of the way to let her down to the floor. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "On second thought, knock yourself out with that program. If it means leaving me alone, go romp around by yourself in a holosuite all you want."

As Larna reaches the first rung of the ladder, she leans over and steals a peck on Mark's cheek. "It'd be fun, but it wouldn't really be you."

"You sneaky…" Mark scowls and wipes his cheek while Larna giggles and hops down the last step to the floor. "I need a break from you," Mark growls. "Pack up that last batch; I'm going to take these to the shop and grab the next set."

"Yes sir, Mr. Flemming," Larna performs a rigid salute while trying to keep a straight face.

Mark grumbles, grabs the box, and leaves for the shop.

"I love watching you walk away," Larna calls after him and snickers.

Marks pauses his stride to drop his head and sigh before continuing at a faster pace.

* * *

Mark trudges into the shop and drops the box on a worktable. He moves to grab a box of the festival lights they'd set out in the morning when he hears Bill call out.

"How's it going, son?"

"Thank God!" Mark throws his hands up and spins to face Bill. "Please tell me you're here to take over, Bill. I don't know if I can stand another hour with her, much less the rest of the shift."

"No can do," Bill shakes his head. "I'm just here to grab somethin' from my locker before that insidious doctor puts me on another machine. I can't rightly tell if that boy's tryin' to treat me or torture me."

"I'm sure it's for your own good," Mark says. "Larna on the other hand… there is no doubt in my mind she's out to ruin my life."

"Ruin it? I'd say she wants to…" Bill stops himself as an unamused Mark blinks at him slowly with narrow eyes. "You're right; she leaves no mystery as to what she wants from you."

"It wasn't so bad there for a while. I could handle the short bouts of teasing at the beginning and end of the shift, but today she's… it's like she's trying to make up for lost time."

"Hopefully she'll get it outta her system," Bill grins, knowing full well that the odds of that are slim. "Well… back to the dungeon. I think I'm slated for the rack next."

"Bill," Mark says hesitantly. "She says that you… make her a little uneasy. You don't…"

"I admire the gal's youth is all," Bill interrupts defensively. "I've not done nor said a thing. Now… I've got a doctor that's missin' his victim."

Mark scoffs as Bill walks out of the shop. He stares at the box of lights in front of him, considering leaving it behind and getting a pint at Quark's. After a long sigh, he picks up the box and heads back to the Promenade.

* * *

Heading back with his box of lights, Mark gets within sight of Larna when he spots Ezri looking around a corner away from him.

"Hey, beautiful," Mark says as he walks up behind her. "Are you here to spy on Larna... or rescue me from her advances?"

Ezri doesn't turn around.

Mark wrinkles his brow as he knows he was heard. "Ezri."

"Huh?" She turns to face Mark with a surprised look. "Were you talking to me?"

"Of course I was, beautiful." Mark takes a look at Ezri's clothes. "From how you're dressed, I'm gonna guess the latter."

"You say 'beautiful' like it's my name or something," Ezri lowers her brow.

Mark scoffs. "Just last night you said you liked it. What made you change your mind?"

"I'm sorry," Ezri scratches her head while her eyes take in the man in front of her. "I've been a bit distracted. I didn't even hear what you said when you first came up."

Mark looks troubled. "I was just guessing that you came down here to save me from Larna over there." He nods in Larna's direction. "Have you met her yet? Though don't get any ideas… I really don't know that I want to be around when that happens."

"She's cute," Ezri correctly assumes that Mark is referring to the blonde-haired woman in a suit similar to his.

"'She's cute'?" Mark replies with a wide-eyed blink. "That's the woman who'd like to steal me from you and drag me to her bed."

Ezri chuckles, still looking at Larna. "I see." She turns and looks Mark over a second time.

"Are you OK?" Mark asks. "You're acting a little strange."

"I'll be fine," Ezri nods. "Why don't we… head to your quarters and I can tell you all about the strange day I've been having."

"Sure thing, beautiful," Mark smiles. "Let me just give these to Larna and we can be on our way. I'd suggest you stay right here."

"Sure thing," Ezri smiles and nods.

Mark can't stop smiling as he walks over to Larna. Seeing Ezri has completely brightened his mood regardless of her odd behavior. He sets the box of lights on the floor near the collection of tools he and Larna have been using.

"Larna, I need to leave you on your own for a bit. I've got to take care of something at my place."

"You mean your girlfriend over there?" Larna waggles her eyebrows.

Mark huffs. "Not like that. I swear, your mind is... what's wrong?"

"She just, uh… winked at me," Larna looks disconcerted. "Is that her way of threatening me? Is she _flirting_?"

Mark looks over his shoulder to spy a smiling Ezri. "Something tells me she's had a rough day. She's not quite herself. I need to go see what's going on."

"I'll miss you," Larna feigns a pout.

"You'll get over it," Mark says flatly as he turns to leave.

"Oh, hey," Larna grins as Mark pauses his stride, "If she _is_ flirting, I'm willing to share if she is."

"Cut it out," Mark turns and points at her harshly. "That's a new low for you."

"Don't yell at _me_." Larna puts her hands up. "Yell at miss winky over there."

* * *

As she likes to do, Larna watches Mark walk away with a smirk.

"Alright, beautiful," she hears Mark say to Ezri. "Let's get out of here."

Mark plants a kiss on Ezri and they head down a corridor together.

Larna sighs and pouts. She half-heartedly begins to unpack the box Mark brought to her when she spots his ID card. He must have set it on the box while he carried it. It's not critical that he get it before he comes back but… Larna sees it as an excuse.

She can't see the pair anymore, but Mark said he was going to his place. Larna happens to know where Mark's quarters are.

Larna smiles, snatches the card, and heads off on the heels of Mark and Ezri.

* * *

Because she got stuck with someone going the wrong way in a turbolift, Larna catches up to them just as Mark is opening the door to his quarters.

"… and then she planted a kiss on my cheek," she hears Mark say as she rounds a nearby corner. Larna smiles at having made an impression despite Mark's negative tone.

Mark walks through the open door. Ezri, still in the hallway, pulls something from under the back of her jacket that prompts Larna to duck back around the corner and cautiously peek around. Ezri glances both ways down the hall as she follows Mark inside and Larna ducks her head back to avoid being spotted. Larna's heartbeat is racing.

"What's wrong, Ezri?" Larna hears Mark say as she peeks around the corner again. "You haven't said two words since we left the Promenade. I've been telling you all about my day with Larna and it hasn't gotten a single rise out of you. Normally you'd be…"

Mark's words stop abruptly as Larna hears an unfamiliar sound. A simultaneous flash of light reinforces her fear that Mark has just been shot with the weapon Ezri pulled. Larna gasps and quickly covers her own mouth.

"I thought you'd never shut up," she hears Ezri say as the door slides shut.

* * *

"Oh, Prophets, Prophets, Prophets," Larna mutters repeatedly with wide eyes as she runs through corridors. "Oh, Prophets…"

She reaches the Promenade and heads straight to the security office.

"Hey Odo," Larna hears a voice say as she approaches. "We were just about to get lunch and…"

Larna turns to enter the office and she practically falls when she sees Ezri. "You?! How?!"

Kira and Ezri turn to see what the commotion is about while Odo stands from his desk to see the same.

"Larna?" Kira is baffled by the young woman's display.

Ezri blinks as she recognizes the name in a heartbeat. "You…" she scowls.

Larna cowers outside the doorframe and tries to catch her breath. "You shot Mark! Wh… how'd you get here so fast… and change?"

"Wait, Mark what?" Ezri starts to panic.

"Calm down, ladies," Odo says. "Miss, please come in and tell us exactly what happened."

* * *

Mark groans. He wants to rub the sore spot on his head, but he can't move his arms. He wants to speak his thoughts aloud on not being able to move his arms, but he can't speak. His hands are tied behind his back and strong tape covers his mouth.

Ezri reacts to his mumblings. "Awake already?"

Mark struggles and manages to sit up against a wall. Ezri is standing in the room half-dressed. All he can do is stare in bewilderment.

"Sorry about the phaser, but I got tired of your babbling and I didn't think you'd let me tie you up willingly," Ezri grins. "Or is your Ezri into that sort of thing."

"Hmm?" is all Mark can manage.

Ezri chuckles. "You don't get it, do you," she says as she puts on a blue Starfleet shirt. "I guess they keep our universe a secret from the common-folk."

Mark's forehead wrinkles in confusion.

"How fortunate for me to run into her boyfriend," Ezri smiles as she picks up a Starfleet jacket. "It must be serious for her to have a stash of clothes here. This will make it _so_ much easier to get around."

Mark raises an eyebrow and eyes Ezri intensely. _She's completely lost it!_

* * *

"You're sure it was me." Ezri questions Larna's assertion.

"Mark sure seemed to think so," Larna flaps her arms in frustration. "He kissed… you."

Ezri tries to shake the image of Mark kissing a stranger. "And you saw _me_ shoot Mark?" Ezri repeats the most critical of Larna's previous statements to Odo.

"I didn't _see_ it," Larna tries to contain her frustration, "but you'd pulled a weapon and there was a sound and a flash of light from the door. Whatever it was, it stopped him mid-sentence. I'm _positive_ he was shot."

While Ezri and Larna have been arguing about what Larna saw, Kira and Odo have been whispering in a corner. Ezri only picks up part of the conversation.

"But that hasn't happened for a couple of years now," Odo whispers.

"I know, and I've never seen or heard of a version of _her_ before," Kira responds quietly.

"What are the two of you going on about?" Ezri asks. "Aren't you worried about what this deranged woman may have done to Mark?"

"Deranged?" Larna takes strong offense.

"Dax," Odo bows his head to request calm. "I don't believe you've been there, but do you recall any of the incidents involving the alternate universe?"

Ezri goes pale and sits abruptly. "Oh my god… another me… and she shot him! Is he…?"

Odo glances down at his desk panel. "I already checked. Internal sensors show two humanoids in his quarters. He's alive."

Ezri lets out a huge sigh of relief. Larna is completely lost.

"What are you talking about?" Larna glances between the others in the room. "Alternate what? Another her?"

* * *

Mark follows Ezri with his eyes, hoping she'll say more to shed light on her bizarre behavior.

Ezri finishes putting on her uniform then stashes a cylindrical device and her other clothes into a shoulder bag. She slides a chair closer to Mark and sits down, holding a style of phaser Mark has never seen before.

"Now," Ezri says, appearing mildly annoyed. "I'm going to take the tape off so we can have a little chat. I don't want you calling for help, so if you so much as say the word 'computer' you get to take another nap. Understand?"

Mark simply blinks and stares back at her.

"Do you understand?" Ezri swings a Starfleet-issue boot against Mark's shin.

"Mmm!" Mark reacts to the kick. He wrinkles his brow and nods.

Ezri readies her phaser with one hand and pulls the tape off with the other.

"Ow!" Mark yells. "Jesus, Ezri! What's wrong with you?"

Ezri narrows her eyes and sighs. "Maybe I wasn't clear. I'm not your Ezri."

"What are you talking about?"

Ezri rubs her eyes and sighs. "I hate having to explain this shit. I can't believe you're involved with Dax. I was under the impression she kept more intelligent company."

* * *

"I'll notify the captain," Kira says.

Odo nods, "I'll isolate Mark's quarters with security fields and send security teams that way."

"I guess I'll try to find a way to not look like myself."

"What?" Kira does a double-take at Ezri.

"I, uh… keep a spare uniform in Mark's quarters. If she finds it, she'll look _exactly_ like me."

"Oh," Kira says. "Then that's a good idea. The last thing we need is to get the two of you confused. Let us know what you change so we can let security forces and the other officers know."

"Is anyone going to explain what's happening?" Larna continues to look between everyone in the room. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have known that Mark's in trouble. I deserve to know what's happening!"

Ezri sighs and considers Larna with contempt. After staring for a moment, Ezri blinks. "Larna… we look to be about the same size. How about you let me borrow something different to wear, and I'll do my best to explain everything on the way to your quarters."

Larna stares back at Ezri with uncertainty. "You're like… the enemy."

"Mark's in trouble," Ezri says with a blank stare. "I don't like you, but I could use your help."

.

* * *

"I don't believe you," Mark says. "Just untie my hands, and we'll get you some help. I think the doctor should look you over."

"I don't care if you believe me," Ezri says, "and the help I need isn't the kind you're talking about."

"OK…" Mark feels he's getting somewhere. "What kind of help do you need?"

"I need to find a Ferengi named Quark."

"He's the bartender, Ezri. You know exactly who he is."

Ezri growls. "Are you seriously this dense? I'm not your girlfriend! In this universe, I don't know who everyone is on this station. Besides, the Quark where I come from died years ago!"

Mark sighs in frustration. "You're really scaring me, beautiful."

"And _stop_ calling me that! I'm about five seconds away from stunning you and finding him on my own."

"OK, OK," Mark says as Ezri raises her weapon. "So we find Quark, what then?"

"I have a message for him; I need to deliver it."

"That's it?" Mark is baffled.

"No, but that's all I'm going to tell _you_."


	15. Reflections Part Two

**A/N:**

I had split this chapter already, intending to make it two chapters… and now I've split it again. Here's part two of the Mirror Ezri encounter. I promise I won't drag it on beyond three chapters. Enjoy!

**Reflections Part Two**

Larna hurries to her quarters with Ezri close behind. After a few rapid blinks of realization, she halts so suddenly that Ezri barely avoids colliding with her. "Wait… why am I walking alone with you? I'm usually not this stupid! You could be the 'other Ezri' who shot mark and transported ahead of me or something to fool me!"

"Don't say 'shot' like that, Larna," Ezri grits her teeth. "The other me simply stunned him. And to be honest, I'd like nothing more than to shoot _you_ right now. But… if what you told Odo is true, Mark is in danger. Can we get moving so I can change into something else? If she really did get her hands on one of my uniforms, the confusion could put him at even greater risk."

"Soo…" Larna squints as she thinks out loud. "You _want_ to shoot me, but you can't because you need my help to help Mark?"

"That's what I just said," Ezri narrows her eyes. "And I'd prefer it if we hurry."

"How do I know you're not leading me into a trap?"

"In your own quarters?"

"You shot Mark in _his_ quarters," Larna backs away. "It's like… you're M.O.!"

Ezri grunts and shakes her head as she turns away. "That's it; deal's off."

"But..."

Ezri spins back around to face Larna and gestures dramatically. "For all we know, she's been to my quarters too. I want to change into something that isn't mine so there'll be absolutely _no_ question about who's who. With all of this stalling, I'm just going to go buy something from Garak's and change in the middle of the damn Promenade!"

"No, wait…" Larna begs. "I still want to know what's going on."

"Then you need to trust me," Ezri says angrily, "and you need to help me."

"I'll… I'll help you," Larna nods nervously, "but it's hard to trust you when I know you hate me."

Ezri holds up a slightly separated thumb and forefinger. "Hate you? I'm this close to wanting to _kill_ you. There are other ways I can change my appearance, but borrowing something of yours seemed like a quick solution. If you don't start walking right now… I'm done with you."

* * *

Ezri is seated in a chair in Mark's quarters, aiming a weapon at a bound Mark. She's wearing a Starfleet uniform with the exception of an empty space where a combadge should be.

"So," Mark says cautiously as he tries to shift his weight to keep his arms from falling asleep. "What's this important message you have to give Quark all about?"

Ezri sighs. "I already told you that I'm not going to tell you, so quit asking questions." She stands and puts her weapon in a shoulder bag that she previously loaded with her civilian clothes and a strange cylindrical device. She picks up the tape that she'd removed from Mark's mouth earlier.

"You're not going to just leave me here, are you?" Mark struggles against the bindings on his wrists. "Let me help you."

"You already have… by letting me know that I can find Quark at the bar. Besides, I don't want you getting in the way." Ezri leans down to put the tape back on Mark's mouth.

"Hey, beautiful... don't. Snap out of this! Let me mmrph!"

Ezri rolls her eyes. "For the last time, I'm not your 'beautiful'."

* * *

Larna walks quickly in silence, trying to ignore the constant glare Ezri aims at the back of her head—until she remembers the original bargain.

"Um, Ezri?" Larna says cautiously.

"What," Ezri answers shortly.

"You said you would explain what's going on."

Ezri huffs. "Sorry. I can't stop thinking of all the things Mark has told me about you."

"I'm sorry, I…"

"Can't keep your eyes and hands to yourself." Ezri rolls her eyes. "I know."

"I can't help it. I find him… irresistible. Don't tell me that in several lifetimes you've never been in that situation."

"I may have been attracted to someone else's significant other once or twice," Ezri glares at Larna, "but none of my hosts have _ever_ acted like you have. You need to get over it and move on."

Larna bows her head in guilt. "I'm sorry."

"Now," Ezri says, speaking rapidly. "As for what's going on, there's an alternate universe that we've had some interactions with. The first time was due to a transporter accident involving a Starfleet captain about a century ago, and more recently, about five years ago, a similar accident sent Colonel Kira and Doctor Bashir over there. Since then, there's been a handful of intentional crossings. It's not something Starfleet wants to be common knowledge. These events usually don't end well for somebody."

"So there's another, complete universe out there… and there are people in it that 'mirror' us?"

"Pretty much."

"But that doesn't make any sense. Over time, there should be differences in who's died and who's been born. The odds of another universe having similar versions of us are…"

"Listen. I'm not here to debate parallel universe theory. There could be an infinite number of them. It could be that the initial transporter accident had to link to one with similar technology and thus similar events leading up to it. All we know is that this other universe has versions of most of us. Some of them we've dealt with before, but this Ezri isn't one of them. We don't know her motivations. Because of that… I'm freaking out a little."

"You're hiding it well," Larna says, genuinely impressed. "Sorry I'm not holding it together as well as you are."

Ezri nods. "That's completely understandable given the circumstances. I don't like it one bit, but I know that you… seem to care about what happens to Mark. I appreciate that you reported what you saw."

"Thanks," Larna smiles.

"I still don't like you," Ezri says flatly.

Larna ducks her head and carries on. After making a couple more turns, Larna stops in front of a door. "Here we are." Larna says and opens the door to her quarters.

Ezri pauses. "I'm not going to find some kind of 'Mark shrine' in here, am I?"

"Hey, I may be forward, but I'm not crazy."

Ezri scoffs. "My professional opinion begs to differ."

* * *

"Dammit," Ezri exclaims as she walks back into Mark's quarters.

"Hmm?" is all Mark can manage with his mouth taped shut.

Ezri looks around the room in frustration. After a heavy sigh, she turns to Mark, smiles, and bats her eyes. "Do you still think I'm your girlfriend?"

Mark's eyes search the beautiful woman in front of him for a reason to shake his head. In the end, he simply shrugs.

"Good enough," Ezri crouches down and pulls the tape off of his mouth. "It looks like I _do_ need your help."

Before Mark can speak, Ezri pushes him against the wall and gives him a long, passionate kiss. "Is that better?"

Mark can't help but smile. "There's my beautiful."

"Good," Ezri smiles. "Now, I need another way to get to the bar—discretely. There's some security fields up in the main corridors."

"Why in the world…?"

"Security drill," Ezri lies. "The senior officers had a briefing about it this morning. Look… I _really_ need to see Quark as soon as possible."

Mark chews his lip as he thinks. "Well, I've only been on the team for a few months, but I think there's some maintenance corridors that should bypass the fields."

"Can I trust you?" Ezri pulls a knife from a pocket of her shoulder bag and waits for a response.

"Of course you can trust me, Ezri," Mark eyes the blade nervously.

"Geeze, relax." Ezri leans Mark away from the wall and cuts his hands free.

"Promise me one thing," Mark holds Ezri's shoulders as he gets to his feet. "We're going to schedule some counselling sessions for you after this is over."

"Whatever it takes," Ezri shrugs. "Deal."

"Alright. Follow me."

* * *

"I look ridiculous," Ezri says while looking in a full-length mirror.

"Of course you do," Larna grins. "This dress is completely out of style; it's been in my closet for months. I picked this one because it's the only one with matching shoes that aren't heels."

Ezri runs her hands down the sides of the form-fitting, black and white dress. "At least with the slit up the side I can still move. Not sure how well I can breathe though."

"It's supposed to be like that; it fits you well," Larna says. "You just don't fill out the front as much. It looks more modest on you than it did on me."

Ezri shoots Larna an angry glance as she stands up straighter and tightens the dress' straps. "Whatever. I don't have time to try on everything in your closet. We should get back to security. Time could be critical."

Larna freezes. "You don't think it could be too late, do you?"

Ezri grabs Larna's shoulders and jostles her slightly. "You can't think like that. Everything is fine and you do everything you can until it isn't and you can't."

"Wow. Is that like some Starfleet motto?"

Ezri shrugs. "That's mostly eight lifetimes talking. I'm trying convince myself of it too."

* * *

While taking a seat at the bar, Mark looks over his shoulder at Ezri who's watching him from an upper level. He waves Quark over and orders a pint.

"Drinking on the job, Mark?" Quark smiles. "Do I need to report this to somebody?"

"You remember me?"

"A lot of people pass through my bar, but not many of them spray me with beer, cause a scene, start a fight with Worf, or date Ezri Dax."

Mark lets out a nervous chuckle and a nod. "I would hope not."

"And how is lady Ezri?"

"Funny you should ask," Mark frowns and motions for Quark to lean closer. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I need a favor."

"Crazy or not, if it's for Ezri, consider it done."

"Uh…" Mark blinks.

"Oh, come on," Quark taps on the bar. "Ezri is quite the alluring female. Surely you know I've always had an eye for her."

"I do now," Mark shifts uncomfortably on his barstool.

"So, what can I do for her?"

Mark wrinkles a corner of his mouth and lowers his brow. "She's… been acting _very_ strange today, and that's putting it mildly. I'm just trying to play along until I can figure out how to get her some help."

"What kind of help?" Quark leans closer.

Mark looks from side to side and speaks quietly. "_Mental_ help."

"So it finally broker her," Quark shakes his head.

"What do you mean?"

"Eight lifetimes, countless relationships, listening to everyone's problems…"

"I know, but _this_… this is weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah," Mark nods and points a finger down on the bar. "Right now, she believes she's from another universe," he says ominously. "Says she absolutely _has _to get this message to you." Mark holds out a data rod.

"The alternate universe?" Quark's expression turns grave and his eyes open wide.

"What, you've heard of people having this kind of meltdown before?"

Quark frowns at Mark. "You don't believe her, do you."

"Of course not."

Quark snatches the data rod and slides it into a Ferengi PADD. He holds another, smaller device to his ear.

"What is it?" Mark asks.

"Shhh," Quark gestures for Mark to be quiet while he watches the message intently.

After several seconds, a stunned Quark sets the earpiece and PADD on the bar. "You're right, Mark; the woman who gave you this _is_ crazy."

"I _knew _it!"

"Tell her…" Quark says as he looks up at the balcony. "Tell her I need to talk to my brother Rom. Meet us back here in half an hour and I can tell you if what she's asking is possible."

"Wait, what?" Mark squints. "If she's gone crazy, why are you considering whatever it is she's asking for?"

"It's like you said: It's best to play along for now."

* * *

"There was a lot of talking going on down there to hand over a message," Ezri says.

"I know; I'm sorry," Mark says. "Quark and I don't really know each other all that well. I had to work up to it."

Ezri eyes Mark with suspicion.

"Hey, I'm serious," Mark holds up his hands. "I don't have the best track record in here, OK? I had to smooth over a couple of wrinkles before he'd take me seriously. He said he'd talk to his brother about it and we need to meet them back here in thirty minutes."

"Dammit. This is taking too long."

"It'll be OK, beautiful. We'll get you what you need."

"Did you watch the message too?" Ezri's eyes show a hint of panic and she takes in a quick breath.

Mark shakes his head. "No, but you know I'd do anything for you."

Ezri lets out a deep breath. "Thanks. That's good to hear."

"So… how'd you like to kill some time?" Mark winks.

Ezri raises her eyebrows, shocked by Mark's sudden and not-so-subtle suggestion. She quickly looks over the railing to hide her reaction. "Actually, I'm a bit hungry—you? I'd rather stay out of sight though if that's OK. I kinda skipped out on that security drill I told you about."

"Ah, gotcha," Mark squints at her briefly while she's not looking. "Just tell me what you'd like and I'll bring it up."

Ezri smiles. "Thanks, sweetheart."

* * *

"Rom!" Quark yells as he enters the bar's storage room.

"Yes, brother?"

"We've got a problem."

"What is it, brother?"

"Remember when you told me that Grand Nagus Zek hadn't been seen for several days?"

"They found him?"

"No," Quark says. "But I know where he is."

"Risa, like you said?"

"The alternate universe."

"Oh, no!" Rom puts his hands on his head. "Both of us are _dead_ there. It's only a matter of time before it kills the Nagus too!"

"Not if we can help it."

"How, brother?"

"The Ezri from the other side gave me a message from the Nagus. The 'Alliance' is holding him prisoner. They want a cloaking device in exchange for his release."

"A cloaking device?" Rom is astonished. "Those aren't just lying around the station, you know. What are we going to do?"

"That's why I came to you, you idiot," Quark smacks the back of Rom's head. "The Defiant and a Klingon Bird-of-Prey are docked here. You figure it out. The Nagus is counting on you. I told them we'd meet them in half an hour to work out the details."

"Oh dear."

* * *

Ezri and Larna make it back to the security office. Kira and Odo are talking inside.

"What did we miss?" Ezri asks.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Kira asks as she turns around.

"It's hideous, right?" Larna smiles.

"Something from her closet," Ezri frowns. "We figured no one should have trouble keeping me and the other me apart now."

"I'd say," Kira says with her eyes still wide. "You look like you just stepped out of one of Quark's more questionable holosuite programs."

"I told you," Ezri lightly elbows Larna's shoulder.

Odo clears his throat to pause the conversation so he can report something more pressing. "Mark and the other Ezri are no longer in his quarters."

"Where'd they go?" Ezri panics. "I thought you had it locked down."

Odo looks down and sighs. "It seems… Mark may be helping the other you. They bypassed the security fields in a maintenance corridor."

"But you… I mean the other you… shot him." Larna says. "Why would he help her after that?"

Kira points at Ezri, "This isn't the first time he's been stunned by an Ezri."

Larna gasps. "You've shot your own boyfriend?!"

"I _stunned_ him. And he wasn't my boyfriend at the time," Ezri defends herself. "He deserved it."

"But…" Larna is baffled, "helping her after being shot this time doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"Who knows," Kira shrugs. "He could be helping her against his will, she could have persuaded him to help willingly, or for some reason he hasn't figured out that it's not her."

"If that's the case," Ezri frowns. "Mark and I need to have a long talk when this is over."

"Don't be too hard on him," Kira puts a hand on Ezri's shoulder. "You remember what happened when the other Bariel crossed over. I knew he was from the alternate universe, hell… I even knew he was a thief. He _still_ played me."

"You're right," Ezri puts a hand over Kira's. "I'm sorry. I'll try and keep that in mind."

"If we could return our focus to the current situation…" Odo says, not upset about changing the subject. "Neither of them have combadges. Internal sensors won't help us track them among the station's general population. I'll have security keep an eye out for Mark and the other you. I'll be sure to update them on your… present attire."

"We need to lock down the transporters," Kira adds. "We don't want her going back with anyone or anything before we find her."

"Which ones?" Ezri asks. "We don't know where they are."

"I intend to lock them all," Odo says as he starts working at his panel.


	16. Reflections Part Three

**A/N**

And now the conclusion… This chapter is the third and final chapter covering our ongoing encounter with the Ezri from the alternate universe.

**Reflections Part Three**

Mark, Ezri, Quark, and Rom are sitting at a table in the upper level of Quark's bar.

"Incredible," Rom says as he stares at Ezri in amazement. "She looks exactly like _our_ Ezri—uniform and all!"

Quark nudges Rom to stay quiet.

"She does, doesn't she?" Mark squeezes Ezri's hand affectionately while he subtly winks at Quark.

Ezri shoots Mark an inquisitive glance but ultimately speaks to Quark. "What have you got for me?"

Quark smiles playfully at Ezri before answering. "My brother tells me that our best bet for getting our hands on a cloaking device is from General Martok's Bird-of-Prey."

"Cloaking device?" Mark is shocked. "Why do you need a cloaking device?"

Quark stares at Mark and squints subtly. "She _needs_ it to secure the release of the Grand Nagus, the leader of our people." Quark points between Rom and himself.

"Ah," Mark says as if that makes perfect sense. He turns to Ezri. "Why didn't you just say so in the first place?"

Ezri looks at Mark with disdain. "You... would have _helped_ me get my hands on a cloaking device?"

"No," Mark says with undue exaggeration. "But the way you were acting, I thought you were after something that would kill people."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that," Ezri closes her eyes and shakes her head, knowing full well that while a cloaking device isn't a weapon, its purpose is most definitely associated with killing people. She also doesn't know why Mark is so transparently 'pretending' to go along with her being from the alternate universe when she knows he strongly believes that not to be the case.

"Whatever," Quark interrupts the squabbling couple. "Back to what I was saying. The device we're shooting for is on the Klingon ship docked at the station."

"Right," Rom jumps in. "The one on the Defiant is too large, too well guarded, and too likely to make me lose my job if it turns up missing."

"But the Klingons would surely…" Ezri starts to make a point about how violently the Klingons would react to the theft, but a sharp eye from Quark prompts her to abandon the thought. "Nevermind."

"Rom tells me we can have it to you in less than an hour," Quark says to Ezri as his enamored smile returns.

"Uh… it'll take about fifteen minutes to disconnect it," Rom guesses, "but moving it through the station without drawing attention could be difficult."

Quark nudges Rom and talks to Ezri through his smiling teeth. "We can handle it. Don't worry about a thing." Quark flips his wrist dismissively. "Just be ready to meet us as soon as we get it out of there."

Ezri nods. "Alright. I'll wait for you in cargo bay four."

"I can't wait," Quark smiles.

The two Ferengi stand and start to walk away. Mark stands as well.

"Where are you going, sweetheart?" Ezri grabs a hold of Mark's hand.

"I have another question for them, beautiful. I'll just be a second." Mark kisses her hand and catches up with Quark and Rom.

"Can I ask you something, Quark?" Mark says as he looks back to check the distance between them and Ezri. "You're not really going to steal a cloaking device, are you?"

Quark throws a hand over Rom's mouth and laughs. "No, of course not. I'll have Rom throw some spare parts and lights together. Maybe when we get it to her, her _crazy_ little scenario will be satisfied and she'll let Doctor Bashir see what's going on in that attractive head of hers."

"OK," Mark hesitates. "But hey… what's the deal with the flirting? You know that we…"

"Take it easy; I'm just playing the part," Quark grins. "If she really thinks she's a different Ezri from another universe, she may feel suspicious if no one makes any advances."

"Well I don't like it," Mark furrows his brow and flashes a glint of anger in his eye. "Don't push it."

Quark plays innocent. "You don't think I would seriously… oh, I wouldn't _dare _come between you and your highly unstable girlfriend over there. I'll keep it to casual glances until we get her the help we can all tell she desperately needs."

Mark relaxes. "Thanks, Quark," he says as he pats Quark on the back. "I appreciate what you're doing."

As Mark heads back to Ezri's table, Quark breathes a sigh of relief and pushes Rom along.

"Why did you lie to him, brother?" Rom is confused.

"About how much I'd like to steal this Ezri away from him? He has no idea who he's dealing with over there. And he thinks _she's_ the crazy one."

"No… about the cloaking device."

"Oh… well. The less he knows about that the better. Just play along."

Ezri stands to meet Mark as he walks back to their table. "Everything OK? It looked like it got a little heated over there."

"Everything's fine. I just wanted to warn Quark about the way he's been looking at you."

"Thanks," Ezri smiles. "He's not my type."

Mark blinks, stunned that she feels the need to specify whether anyone besides himself is her type or not.

"Oh come here," Ezri kisses Mark after seeing his reaction to her impulsive statement. "I'm just teasing."

"Sorry," Mark forces a flicker of a smile. "It's turned into a very weird day."

"Tell me about it," Ezri rolls her eyes then glances cautiously into his.

Mark examines Ezri's expression closely before speaking again. "So… I assume you need to get to cargo bay four discretely… because of that security drill?"

"You're catching on," Ezri smiles happily and turns to head to the maintenance corridor they used to reach the bar.

"I think I am," Mark says flatly and follows, watching Ezri intently.

* * *

"I hate just waiting around," Ezri huffs, feeling uncomfortable in the tight, borrowed dress.

"Patience, lieutenant," Odo says. "This office is the best place to monitor security channels and other information that might clue us in to their location."

Kira whispers to Larna. "You seriously wore that? In public?"

"Not really," Larna snickers. "But don't tell _her_ that."

"Larna… Dax is one of my best friends," Kira blinks slowly at the young woman.

Larna gulps. "Oh."

"I can hear both of you," Ezri says as she adjusts her dress again. "You wanted to humiliate me; is that it?"

Larna shrinks in her chair. "I couldn't help it; I'm jealous. You have what I want and I saw a chance to lash out."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but this doesn't bother me," Ezri says as she waves her hand from her shoulder to the hem of the dress. "One of my previous hosts was an Olympic gymnast. I've worn much less for an audience of millions. And come to think of it, this isn't nearly as short as that old Starfleet uniform Jadzia thought was so cute. Oh… and then there was the wedding on Betazed. I was male at the time and I had _everything_… just hangin' out there."

"Maybe we should talk about something other than clothes," Kira says with a pained expression.

* * *

Mark sits on a crate in cargo bay four. He watches Ezri closely as she paces back and forth. On one of her trips, she notices something and takes a closer look at the transporter control panel.

"Shit," Ezri kicks the panel support. "It's locked out."

"Part of that security drill?" Mark rolls his eyes.

"Probably," Ezri says before catching Mark's reaction. "Wait… you think I'm lying?"

"I didn't say that," Mark says and looks Ezri squarely in the eyes. "I love you, Ezri. I trust you. I just… I think you need help."

Ezri turns away and leans on a support beam near the transporter pad. "You don't really think that. At least… not anymore."

Mark sighs and shakes his head slowly.

* * *

"I think we've got them," Odo says. "Someone just tried to initialize the transporter in cargo bay four. Internal sensors confirm the presence of a Human male and a Trill female."

"Then let's go!" Ezri jumps to her feet. "We can't let her take him!"

As Larna stands, Kira holds up a hand. "You should stay here. It could be dangerous."

"You can't make me stay behind," Larna says defiantly.

"We could…" Kira looks to Ezri who tilts her head in thought briefly before shrugging her shoulders. "Alright, you can come. But be sure to keep a safe distance behind us just in case."

* * *

Quark and Rom enter the cargo bay acting like they're carrying something between them. Mark can see nothing and marvels at their convincing mime.

"It's about time!" Ezri says. "We have another problem. Security has the transporters locked out."

Quark and Rom bend down and a clanging sound is heard. Mark blinks in amazement.

Quark cracks his knuckles and winks at Ezri. "I wouldn't be a very good smuggler if I couldn't handle that now would I."

As Quark starts working on the transporter panel, Rom leans down over the transporter pad. Suddenly, a Klingon cloaking device becomes visible.

Mark raises his eyebrows at the device before shaking his head with disappointment.

"That's not really what you think it is," Quark points at the device and stammers at Mark. "You'd be amazed what my brother can…"

"Shut up, Quark," Ezri says. "I think he knows what's going on."

"Finally," Quark shakes his head and gets back to work on the transporter.

Mark hangs his head and clasps his hands behind his neck.

Ezri sighs at Mark. "I thought you were just being stupid, but you really thought I was her—that she'd lost her mind."

"Yeah. I thought that for a long time," Mark looks up and nods slowly. "It was hard to get past it." He squints and thinks for a second. "You don't even know my name, do you."

Ezri shakes her head and shrugs. "No, I don't. I kept waiting for someone to call you by your damn name but no one ever did. Seems your suit's missing a patch—probably had it right there."

"Yeah," Mark pulls at one of the loose threads that used to hold the patch in place. "I'm not sure what happened to that."

"What made you realize I'm not her?" Ezri asks, quite seriously.

"More than it should have, that's for damn sure," Mark yanks the loose string off of his suit and throws it on the floor. "And this thing," he points to the cloaking device. "Am I going to regret this?"

"We're in business!" Quark claps his hands together as the Transporter panel lights up. "And no, you won't regret it. The Grand Nagus really _is_ being held for ransom and this is the price. Rom and I are going with her to bring him back."

"Like hell you are," Ezri raises an eyebrow.

"One button and the lock-out comes back," Quark holds up a finger. "We're going."

"Alright," Ezri sighs. She takes the cylindrical device out of her bag and waves it over the transporter panel. "Hop on, boys."

"I didn't know we were going, brother." Rom says nervously. "I don't think this is such a good idea."

Quark shoves his brother onto the transporter pad. "Get on, Rom. Our Nagus needs us."

Ezri steps onto the pad and looks at Mark. "So, are you going to tell me or what?"

"Am I going to tell you what?" Mark is truly at a loss, having lost track of the conversation.

"Your name, silly."

Mark can't hold back a short chuckle.

Ezri cocks her head to the side. "What's funny?"

"_My_ Ezri calls me 'silly' sometimes, never 'sweetheart' like you've been saying." He looks her in the eyes again and sighs. "My name's Mark."

Ezri nods subtly to thank him for the answer and to acknowledge the emotion he's doing a poor job of hiding. "I'm sorry for using you, Mark. And for shooting you."

Mark cracks a smile at that and shrugs. "My Ezri's done that too."

"You must have a _very_ strange relationship."

"It suits us," Mark grins. "And hey… wherever you're going… take care of yourself."

"You're not mad at me?"

Mark shakes his head. "I could never be mad at you, beautiful. It doesn't matter what universe you're from."

"Take care of yourself, Mark," Ezri nods. "Energize."

Ezri, the two Ferengi, and the cloaking device dematerialize. Mark sits and stares at the transporter pad.

* * *

Odo and the others reach cargo bay four.

"We're too late," Kira says, frustrated to find only cargo.

"Why would she take Mark?!" Ezri panics. "Seriously… why?"

"I'm over here, beautiful," Mark calls out from his seat on a crate, obscured from the door the others entered through.

"Oh thank goodness!" Ezri hurries around a tall stack of cargo. She finds Mark leaning forward, still staring at the transport pad.

Mark looks up at Ezri in her tight white dress with an intricate black flower pattern. "Wow… this day just keeps getting weirder."

"Did she hurt you? Are you alright?"

Mark stands and embraces her tightly. "I'm good now, Ezri. I love you."

"I love you too." Ezri looks in Mark's eyes. "You look upset. Are you sure you're OK?"

"I thought she was you for the longest time. I thought you'd lost your mind. That was… tough."

"Uh…" Ezri looks down at the crazy dress she's wearing. "Pay no attention to this. I haven't _really_ lost it."

"It's kinda hard _not_ to pay attention to it. Why…"

"I'll tell you about it later. For right now, I just don't want to let you go." Ezri pulls Mark close and kisses him.

As the pair continue to kiss, Odo clears his throat. "Mark, I'm going to need you to come to security to provide a statement about what happened here."

"Later, Odo," Ezri says as she briefly pulls her lips away from Mark's.

Kira tugs on Odo's shoulder. "C'mon Odo, they've had a rough day. It can wait."

"Very well," Odo sighs as Mark and Ezri continue to kiss each other in the middle of the cargo bay.

* * *

As Kira and Odo leave the cargo bay, they find Larna sitting on the floor against the corridor wall.

"Are you alright?" Odo asks.

"Yeah, I just… couldn't watch _that_ anymore," Larna shrugs.

Kira frowns and extends a hand to Larna. "Why don't you come along with us. I'll get you something to drink at the replimat."

Larna glances at the cargo bay door and thinks for a second before taking Kira's hand. "Sure. Thanks."

The three walk down the hall and the cargo bay door slides closed.

* * *

Back in the cargo bay, Ezri is all smiles and full of relief. She still sees concern on Mark's face. "What's the matter?"

"We kissed," Mark says.

"I know we did."

"No, I mean…" Mark looks to the floor.

"Oh."

"I didn't know it wasn't you. We didn't, but at one point I even suggested that we… you know."

Ezri puts her fingers against Mark's lips. "You didn't, so I… I'm not upset. Kira reminded me of a time when someone from the other side played on her emotions and took advantage of her. She used you and I can't hold that against you."

"I hold it against myself."

"You shouldn't."

"It's not like she was just some imposter, you know? She was _you_. She even acted like you some of the time. I… I felt for her what I feel for you, even _after_ I figured it out. That's going to take some time to sort out."

Ezri wrinkles her brow as she searches Mark's eyes. "It's OK, Mark. I understand. For you to feel things for another woman would normally be difficult, but this was another _me_. The way I'm going to think of it is like this: you fell in love with me all over again."

"Oh yeah?" Mark smiles. "I kinda like how that sounds."

"Now," Ezri shifts her dress uncomfortably as she takes a step back from Mark. "How about you come to my quarters and help me get out of this horrid thing."

* * *

Ezri and Mark lie in bed together. Ezri is on her side with her head resting on Mark's chest. She wrinkles her nose as her eyes settle on the borrowed dress draped over the arm of a chair.

"I want to burn it," Ezri says, breaking a long silence between them.

"What are you talking about?" Mark's mind is elsewhere.

"That horrible dress I borrowed from Larna."

"Ah," Mark lifts his head from the pillow to take a look. "I still can't believe the two of you cooperated."

"Trust me, she was on the verge of needing emergency medical treatment the whole time."

"I don't doubt it," Mark chuckles. "And the dress wasn't _that_ bad."

Ezri lifts her head and turns to look Mark in the eyes. "Seriously? Name one reason that dress shouldn't be destroyed."

"It accentuated one of your best assets," Mark smiles as he quickly grabs Ezri's backside.

"Hey!" Ezri giggles and starts to tickle Mark in retaliation.

After sharing a good laugh, the two sigh in unison.

"Alright," Ezri says reluctantly. "I'll give it back to her in one piece."

"That would be the honest thing to do…" Mark's attention drifts as he speaks.

"What's on your mind?" Ezri props herself up to face Mark more comfortably.

Mark stares deeply into Ezri's eyes. "Is there anything else I should know about before we get more serious?"

"What do you mean?" Ezri tries to read Mark's expression.

"About the 'what else' part or the 'more serious' part?"

"Both, of course," Ezri blinks as if the need for clarification was unnecessary.

"Twin from another universe?" Mark blinks. "Any similar surprises out there I should know about?"

"Nope," Ezri says confidently. "Wait… I may have an enemy or two in a couple of Klingon houses."

"Is that all?" Mark rolls his eyes.

"That should be about it," Ezri smiles and nods. "Now… about this 'more serious' thing."

Mark's eyes take in every detail of Ezri's face. "For some strange reason, meeting another you made me more certain than ever that you're the only woman I ever want to have in my life."

Ezri's eyes widen, but not with the panic that she felt the last time the topic of long-term commitment came up.

"Ezri, I'm not doing this proper, but…"

"Yes."

"I haven't even finished my question," Mark smiles. "I could totally take advantage of this."

"I am _not_ putting that dress back on," Ezri smirks, "but I _will_ marry you."

Mark fakes a gasp. "Is _that_ what you thought I was going to say?"

Ezri squints playfully at Mark and warms up her tickle-hand. "It is."

"You're really ready to become Ezri Flemming?"

"Sorry to break it to you, but 'Dax' will still supersede _your_ silly name," Ezri sticks her tongue out. "It's a Trill thing… nothing personal."

"That's not what I was asking, but…"

"Oh, you're trying to back out on me already?" Ezri smiles and hovers her clawed hand over Mark's stomach.

"I don't mean that either, I…" Mark can't help but start laughing as he braces himself.

"Too late, mister. Your ass is mine."

Ezri plunges her hand down against Mark's stomach. He squirms as he laughs heartily. Mark retaliates in kind, but their playfulness quickly transitions to passion.

* * *

Larna still can't believe the events of the day: essentially witnessing Mark getting shot by some 'other' Ezri, arguing with the 'real' one, then watching her try and suffocate Mark with her face.

Larna wears a frown and huffs around her bedroom as she strips off her work clothes to take a shower. She slides open a drawer and grabs a nightgown to set on the counter for when she steps out. She pauses and stares into the drawer. She delicately lifts an embroidered patch of cloth out of the drawer and runs her fingers over it, tracing the letters as if caressing the man they identify. After feeling the last stich of the 'k', she places the patch back in her drawer and sighs.

After a long shower and slipping into her nightgown, Larna begrudgingly climbs into the bed she tires of using alone.

* * *

**Another A/N:**

Yeah. Wow…

In case you didn't already know, I make this shit up as I go (for this story anyway). I only have vague ideas of like, one or two 'things' I want to have happen in a chapter and then I totally wing it from there. I revise and make changes of course, but I don't pre-plan most of what happens in this story. I just write what feels amusing or appropriate (or inappropriate) at the time.

Prime example: I totally didn't pre-plan the (awkward) proposal. I just wanted a "wind-down" section where Mark asks Ezri about what else he needs to look out for in their life together. I hadn't really thought about writing about escalating their relationship, but I suddenly felt that if they were _ever_ going to take the next step, the events of these recent chapters were going to be what pushed it along.

I have no idea where this is going…


End file.
